


Once upon a different life

by withbatedbreath (heart_eyes)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Anal Sex, Inspired by a Movie, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles, Photographer Zayn, Rock Star Harry, The Vow - 2012, brief mention of a miscarriage, lots of flashbacks, non-graphic car accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 45,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4817270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heart_eyes/pseuds/withbatedbreath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zarry version of The Vow</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once upon a different life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aimtoplease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimtoplease/gifts).



> Hello aimtoplease thank you for such wonderful prompts but in the end the vow was just too tempting to pass up, though adding a son really threw me at first bc the story itself is already so big so to add in a child seemed a bit overwhelming haha but i tried, if there's not enough Zach to grant your kidfic wishes i apologize and hope you can enjoy the rest of the fic. I also made Harry the one who loses his memory please don't hate me :(
> 
> I'd like to thank the best beta in the world l.r who was the best cheerleader anyone could ask for while i was writing this and wanting to quit because i didn't think i was doing the movie justice, you're my rockstar idol and i thank you! 
> 
> I stayed pretty close to the movie with this fic, including actual dialogue from the movie, quotes that i felt were the very essence of the film like the vows the characters exchange for example i didn't feel like anything i could've come up with would be half as good as in the movie so for plagiarism sake i do not claim those quotes as my own in any way all quotes come from this site: www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/movie_script.php?movie=vow-the
> 
> Lastly please note that this fic takes place in 2022 the boys are 28-29 when Harry gets in an accident. There are MANY flashbacks in this fic much like the movie, they're indicated by the year the memory/scene took place in. I hope it's not too confusing :/

_Zayn:_

_I have this theory._

_That life is made up of moments; moments in time that eventually become a memory that we will relive over and over in our minds like a movie reel. And it’s our mood that determines which reel to watch at any given time. If you’re feeling sad then you’d switch to the birthday you didn’t get those walkie-talkies you’d asked for and if you were happy then maybe you’d flip to the reel of you finally getting that promotion you deserved. These moments are full of emotion and drenched in sentiment and the more intense or intimate the memory the longer its staying power._

_In my short time here on earth, I’ve come to find that it’s these experiences good or bad, big or small that end up defining who we are._

+++

-2022-

“Good morning, Mr. Malik.” Zayn sing-songed directly into the other man’s ear and receives nothing but a groan for his troubles as Harry gently bats blindly at him, a considerably nicer response then he’s oft to give their alarm clock.

Zayn makes a tutting noise, nuzzling his nose into the back of his husband’s neck to inhale the sweet aroma of apples, expensive soap, and best of all _Harry_. “Come on babe, gotta get up, you’ve got work this morning, remember?” Zayn reminded, gripping his exposed shoulder where the duvet had slipped, to physically push his husband onto his back and prevent him from snuggling into his pillow and falling back asleep.

Harry threw an arm across his eyes, letting out a dying whale noise when he realized he wasn’t going to be able to sweet talk himself out of this. “S’saturday, sleep in day.” Zayn nodded, even though Harry couldn’t see it, pouting in understanding.

“I know, love, but you said Jeff called in an emergency meeting this weekend…” That seemed to rouse the taller man out of his sluggish state, eyes snapping open from where they peeked out from under his arm.

“Oh right, damnit.” He cursed, remembering that today was not just any day but a day that could potentially change their lives forever.

Now fully awake, he licked his lips and couldn’t help but smirk up at Zayn, looking even more stunning—with his hair a mess, soft and product-less, as it flopped into his eyes, gone are his contacts, leaving thick black framed glasses in their place. Wearing nothing but a pair of tight Marvin the Martian briefs and an oversized white t-shirt that had to be Harry’s the way the v-neck collar dipped obscenely, showing off an indecent amount of smooth delicious skin that Harry’s tongue was aching to taste—then all the models dressed up to the nines at fashion week.

“How much time have I got?” He purrs, smoothing his hands up his husband’s thin but powerful thighs to reach his waist. Zayn raised a playful eyebrow, more than familiar with that tone and what it implied.

“That depends, did you want to actually eat breakfast or not?” Harry licked his lips a second time, grinning with both dimples as he pretended to ponder his options.

“Hmm, think I’ll just hit up the shop for a breakfast smoothie or summat—I’ve got more important things to do this morning then eat.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” Zayn teased, purposely wriggling so that his ass brushed Harry’s erection.

“You.” The younger lad hissed, reaching down to give Zayn’s modest bum a squeeze for emphasis.

+++

Zayn clutched at the bed sheets as Harry jabbed him right in his sweet spot sending jolts of pleasure straight to his gut and had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from crying out, both of them trying their best to be quiet as Harry fucked into him with abandon, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing, the occasional grunt and the slight creak of their ancient bed frame.

Harry bites at his forearm to cover a moan when Zayn tightens around him and doubles his efforts in retaliation, dicking into him at the perfect angle—the one that never fails to make his husband’s eyes roll back in his head.

He watches it happen with a smirk when there’s suddenly a tiny noise just outside their door and all at once they pause, ears perked like a dog as they listen to the telltale shuffle of sleepy little feet coming down the hall towards their bedroom.

“Haz, baby, you did remember to lock the door last night, right?” Harry’s eyes widen guiltily with a sheepish shrug.

“Um, I thought you did?” The two of them hold their breath, looking like a sight, two grown men frozen mid thrust and watching as the knob to their door rattles a few times but fails to twist around and finally relax, just as a little voice comes seeping through the wood:

“Daddy, Papa m’hun-gee.” Zach, their three-year-old son, whimpers through the door and Zayn can just imagine him sleepily leaning against the door in his Pingu footie pajamas, tiny fist still raised against the door and feels horrible that he’s laying there with his husband’s dick still hard and pulsing inside him while their toddler is mere feet away.

“Me too buddy, just not for food.” Harry mutters under his breath and to Zayn’s horror circles his hips with an evil smirk. Zayn shudders, his toes curling as he practically sees sparks and whacks him in the arm, looking more than appalled but Harry just chuckles, shaking his head as he calls out to their son.

“Alright champ, how about you let us wake up a bit and go watch Mickey Mouse, yeah?”

“Okay, daddy.” Comes the soft reply and they wait until they hear his footsteps recede and the door to his room click shut before Zayn slaps him again.

“You…are terri—oh fuck, yes, right _there!”_ He groans, as Harry picks up right where he left off, this time fucking him like a man on a mission, not wanting to keep his son hungry and waiting for too long.

“I’m so close, baby, god I love the way you fuck me.”

“Yeah?” Harry grunts, slamming into him so hard and fast their skin makes this loud slapping sound that he prays doesn’t carry to their innocent son’s ears. “Shit me too, feels so good—you always feel so good around me, Z.”

With a few more vicious snaps of Harry’s hips Zayn comes, hitting Harry in the chest and collarbone with it. Harry comes not long after, wheezing into Zayn’s neck as his body trembles with aftershocks. Zayn waits until Harry’s calmed to shove him off of him, the younger lad falling to the bed with a soft ‘oof’ and looks to the time.

“Good thing you chose sex over breakfast, because you’ve now got just enough time to shower before you need to be out the door.”

“What no post-coital cuddles?” Harry teases with a grin.

“Not with a hungry toddler and a chest full of drying jizz, I’m afraid not.” Zayn admonished, gesturing to the mess he’d made on Harry’s chest.

Harry pulled a disgusted face. “Gross Z, I can’t believe I chose to spend the rest of my life with you.” The older lad rolls his eyes.

“Puh-lease you signed on for much longer than that, babe—I’ve already got us a time share set up in the afterlife.”

The curly lad snorts. “I know you’re joking, but I honestly wouldn’t put it passed you to do just that.” Zayn doesn’t bother to reply just grins and climbs out of bed, grabbing his clothes up off the floor where they’d been strewn in their haste to get naked.

Once dressed he rounds the bed to Harry’s side and bends down to leave a smacking kiss on his ruddy lips. “Get up and in the shower, I’ve got peanut butter and banana pancakes to make, so don’t make me come back here after you.”

“Yes, daddy.” Harry barked; face solemn as he brought a hand up to his forehead for a salute.

Zayn raised an eyebrow. “I’m Papa, remember?”

Harry’s stern expression started to crack as a playful smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe to Zachary you are but get a few shots of bourbon in you and you make the sickest leather daddy I’ve ever had the pleasure of—”

“—SHOWER HARRY, NOW!” Zayn snapped his cheeks flaming as he hurried from the room to the sound of Harry’s laughter.

+++

By the time Harry is showered and dressed Zayn and Zach are just about done making Saturday morning breakfast together, which almost _always_ consists of peanut butter and banana pancakes and turkey bacon, the entire house smells heavenly and Harry is gutted he can’t stay and join them, especially when his son lights up at the sight of him, grinning beautifully at Harry as he holds a piece of pancake sopping with maple syrup out to him.

Unable to resist such an offer, Harry moves over to his son with his mouth open wide, watching as the three-year-old concentrates on carefully guiding the fork into his awaiting mouth. Harry lets out a pornographic moan, dramatically clutching at his heart.

“Oh…my god, these are amazing, Chef Zach. You’ve clearly out done yourself this morning.”

“Papa helped.” Zach insisted, speaking around a mouthful of pancake.

“Course he did, tastes amazing, Z.” Zayn sniffs in amusement.

“Yeah, yeah, get a move on babe, don’t care to hear you whine later on about Jeff giving you a hard time for being late. Speaking of, aren’t you a bit over dressed for the club?” He asks, taking in Harry’s silky red button up unbuttoned to the navel.

Looking down at his admittedly fancy top, Harry shrugs. “What this old thing?”

“It’s not that old and far dressier then you usually go for.” Narrowing his eyes, Zayn flicks the spatula in his direction. “You are going to work, aren’t you? You’re not stepping out on me with that new young bassist of yours, are you? I’m not blind; I know he’s got himself a little crush.”

Harry doesn’t even try to hide his incredulity. “Please, like Calum could hold a candle to you. Don’t be silly, love, of course I’m headed to work, just didn’t feel like slumming it today, is all.”

Zayn hummed, though there were clearly still traces of suspicion on his face as he watched Harry kiss their son goodbye before coming around to collect his kiss from him as well.

He may not have been able to sit down and eat with them but those pancakes smelled much too good to pass up, so he grabbed a misshapen pancake off the stack in the middle of the table, folded it in half and stuffed it into his mouth on his way out the door.

+++

**_Harry:_ **

**_I have this theory._ **

**_That life is made up of decisions; decisions that will later become the actions that will take us where we need to be, even if it’s not necessarily where we want to go. Life is funny that way, choose to go left instead of right and you can offset your entire future in just a blink. It’s these actions that determine how our life will play out, decide to sit next to the weird kid who’d purposely glued his hands together for a laugh in kindergarten and end up making a lifelong friendship, decide to go to that same mate’s wedding and meet the love of your life, decide to start a family and adopt the most precious little boy and become a father._ **

**_It’s the decisions that we choose to make every day in our lives, good or bad, big or small, that are what ultimately end up defining who we are._ **

+++

Harry hated lying to Zayn, didn’t make a habit of doing it. They’ve been together for seven years, married five, and parents for three and he can honestly say he’s only lied to his husband a handful of times. And even then they were more little white lies, the usual fibs that are necessary to keep any household a happy one. But this was no little fib, he full out lied to Zayn this morning, claiming that Jeff, the owner of the club he worked at as the lead guitarist of the house band, had called him in at the last minute for a surprise gig.

But he’d done no such thing.

The Empire was the London equivalent of the iconic House of Blues in America, everyone who was anyone—or at least _thought_ they were someone - ended up passing through The Empire. Once you had your face on the wall of the hallowed halls of The Empire, you knew you’d finally made it. Jeff and his father Irving were well respected in the music business and were very powerful and had many connections.

So when the most influential man in music, Mr. Simon Cowell himself drops in for a jam session, everyone is on their best behavior. A complimentary bottle of Cristal is sent to his booth and the boys of the band give it their all in hopes of catching his interest.

Harry isn’t as eager to impress, he and Cowell have a history that goes way back to when he was just 19 and so _hungry_ for it. He and his band at the time, Peachy Keen, had just signed a contract with Syco slated to record their first ever studio album that would later lead to them headlining their first ever tour—playing mostly small local gigs around the UK and later Europe. But at the time he’d felt like he was on top of the world, unfortunately Peachy Keen was not destined for longevity and due to a intraband break up, they disbanded after just five short years, never even broke America.

Simon had always had a soft spot for Harry and even after the band broke up, he had tried to encourage him to continue on as a solo artist or to join another band. But he and Zayn had just gotten married and were already sharing their dreams of starting a family by then and he just hadn’t wanted to be away from his husband, so instead Simon hooked Harry up with Irving’s number and the rest, as they say, is history.

So Simon showing up at the club randomly could only mean one thing as far as Harry was concerned, he must have a business proposal to run by him because Simon rarely wasted his time on anything he didn’t stand to profit from and he’d been right.

Cowell hung around until after that night’s show and invited Harry to join him for a drink and proceeded to tell him about his latest cash cow—erm, artist. This sweet little thing with a voice reminiscent of the late great Amy Winehouse and the body and face of miss Britney Spears called Lilah, no last name of course because that’s what all the cool kids were doing these days.

He made sure to mention that she was set to go on her very first promo tour and that he was putting together a band for her—made up of only the best, people who were not only talented but reliable. He’d raised a well-manicured eyebrow pointedly at Harry when he said that because he was a man of many distinguishable talents but subtlety was not one of them.

After more buttering up and many, _many_ drinks later, Simon finally broached the subject of Harry coming to audition with the rest of the guys he’d pooled together to see if he was a good fit as their guitarist. And the thing is, Harry loved music, it flowed through his veins and made up about ninety percent of his soul and he’s always loved touring—living out of a suitcase with wheels beneath his feet, more often than not never bothered him like it did _some_ divas being a famous Rockstar had always been the Big Dream, fronting a world renowned band is what he’s dreamed of for as long as he can remember.

However, somewhere along the way, Zayn and starting a family took precedent over that. But he never stopped imagining what life would be like if he and the band could’ve worked out their issues, couldn’t ignore the what ifs floating around in his mind and figured this could be a sign, a second chance at his childhood dream and just because he went to the audition didn’t mean he _had_ to say yes, he was just going to scratch an itch—so as not to regret letting this opportunity slip through his fingers.

It was just an audition, nothing was set in stone so he didn’t see the point in telling Zayn and worrying him over nothing, figured he’d wait and see how it all went before he sprung the news on his husband.

That’s why when he rolls to a stop at the end of the street he waits for the light to turn green before turning left on Chestnut instead of the right onto Oak that would take him to the club.

+++

They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes the good, the bad, and the ugly all of it—everything worth remembering in the span of a few seconds. Well, the same can be said for serious trauma. Only it’s the single most important things that go through your mind and when the Chelsea Foods truck skids across a patch of black ice that sends it careening into the side of Harry’s tiny four door while crossing an intersection, the only thing that comes to mind is _Zayn_ —Zayn holding Zach, the two of them smiling happily with syrup and peanut butter all over their faces and how he really wishes he’d told Simon to piss off with his offer, because if he had he’d be sitting at home with his family probably watching Tangled for the millionth time because Zach thinks the horse is hilarious.

Instead he sat, drifting in and out of consciousness with blood dripping into his eyes from the gash in his forehead courtesy of the steering wheel, his side feels like it’s on fire and suspects something’s definitely broken the way his insides seem to rattle with every breath he takes. He can hear sirens in the distance, knows help is on the way and wills himself to stay awake, focusing on Zach’s car seat knocked askew from the impact but just visible in the rearview mirror. But his injuries get the better of him and before long; his heavy eyelids slip close and don’t reopen.

+++

Rapunzel has just finished singing about having a dream with the fine men of the Snuggly Duckling tavern, Zach is sat at his side giving the film his rapt attention no matter that he’s seen the movie four times as many years as he’s been alive on Earth when Zayn’s cell phone begins to vibrate, the movement nearly sending it off the edge of the coffee table, but luckily he snatches it up right before it can hit the carpet. Glancing at the caller id, an involuntary grin spreads itself across his face when he sees the all too familiar number and thumbs the answer button.

“It’s eight AM on a Saturday to what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call from his majesty?” He jokes into the phone.

“Zee, are you sitting down?” Zayn stiffens at the grave tone in his mate’s voice quickly chasing the smile from his face and suddenly feels his body go cold.

“What is it Lou—what’s wrong?” There’s a beat of silence over the line and Zayn listens to Louis suck in a shuddery breath.

“God, I really hate to be the one to tell you this but when you changed mobile numbers you must’ve forgotten to update your emergency contact information.”

“What’re you on about, Tomlinson? Is everything alright—is Liam…” Louis cuts him off.

“ _Liam’s_ fine, god. Zayn, it’s—it’s _Harry._ ” Everything fades to white noise after that, Louis' voice going muffled and intelligible like the adults in a Peanuts cartoon as he explains all that has happened.

Zayn tries his best to focus but becomes aware that Zach is no longer watching the movie but staring up at him in concern and that’s when he realizes that the hand that he’d been using to card through his son’s hair had curled into a fist causing the little boy to cry out in pain.

“Sorry, baby.” Zayn mumbles numbly, as he untangles his fingers from Zach’s raven curls. “Papa’s going to go finish his call to Uncle Louis in the bedroom, okay?” He doesn’t wait for a response before dragging himself up off the couch and down the hall, body moving on autopilot as his mind checks out.

“Look Zee, Liam’s going to come get you now, ok? You shouldn’t be alone—” Zayn moves around the room in a fog, grabbing one of Harry’s worn jumpers from the closet, his favorite because it’s a bit loose on him but is so soft and smells like Harry—like home.

Biting his lip Zayn shoves his feet into his sneakers and grabs his wallet from the bureau. “No, I can’t just wait around for him, I’m coming there now.”

“What about Zac—” It’s Zayn’s turn to cut him off.

“I’ll leave him with the neighbors, I’m sure Lou won’t mind.”

“Are you sure you’re in any condition to drive?” Zayn pauses in the middle of the room, looking up into their bedroom mirror he takes in his harried reflection, tries running a shaky hand through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it and with a choked voice he whispers:

“He’s my _husband,_ Louis, he’s my husband and he’s hurt—I’m on my way.”

+++

Liam is already downstairs when he arrives, chain-smoking outside by the entrance while he waits. He immediately engulfs Zayn in a fierce bear hug and leads him up to Harry’s floor where Louis is waiting in a hardback chair just outside Harry’s room. He stands at the sight of them and moves forward just in time to catch Zayn as he nearly collapses into his awaiting arms.

“Have you heard anything? Can we go in to see him?”

“Not yet but a nurse just came by to tell me that a doctor would be over shortly to explain things, so you haven’t missed much.”

Zayn shuts his eyes and slowly sinks down into the now vacated chair, hiding his face in his hands. “God, how did this happen, Lou? To my Harry, of all people?”

“I dunno, babe” Louis coos, petting his hair gently. “Why does anything happen to anyone? Life’s just this fucked up game of chance, innit?”

Zayn knew it was true and usually he can handle anything life throws at him but not this, this is where he draws the line—he doesn’t want to play anymore. He’s just about to tell Louis of his plans to forfeit when the door to Harry’s room opens and out walks a doctor who doesn’t look that much older than them, maybe Niall’s brother Greg’s age? He spots them and Zayn holds his breath without realizing it as he approaches.

As gently as possible he tells them that the brain scans they’ve taken of Harry’s head show a concerning amount of hemorrhaging and following protocol regarding head trauma they’ve put him in a forced comatose state while his injuries heal and once that happens he’ll slowly be weaned out of it.

“Can we see him? I know he’s only sleeping but I just have to see him.”

Dr. Spencer nods. “That’s more than understandable, just let the nurses do one last cursory sweep to make sure everything is in order and that Mr. Styles—”

“ _Malik_ , it’s Mr. Malik.” The doctor consults his chart; brow furrowed as he flips through a few pages before shooting Zayn an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry all his paperwork says Styles.”

“Does it? God, I keep telling him to update these things and he never—”

“It’s fine, perhaps you can pay a visit to the nurses’ station to discuss making all the proper corrections, but for now we want to make sure Mr. Malik is comfortable and squared away and then someone will be over to let you know you can go in and see him, yeah?”

“Thank you, doctor.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Dr. Lester assures him and leaves him with a sympathetic squeeze to the shoulder.

Liam clears his throat, awkwardly shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Suppose that answers that question.”

“What question?” Zayn asks, wiping at his nose with his—Harry’s sleeve.

“Why the hospital called Lou and not you…Harry’s emergency contact is probably still Louis from back when they were flat mates.”

“In Haz’s defense, I only changed mine to Liam the year before last and we’ve been married for seven years, you just never think something like this is going to happen for you need that information updated, yeah?”

Zayn shook his head. “Still it’s no excuse—he’s a bloody father now, for god sakes, it doesn’t get any more adult than _parenthood,_ so when is he going to grow up?”

“Zayn.” Liam started but Zayn beat him to it, covering his face with his hands.

“God look at me, chastising him when he’s currently in a bloody coma, I’m a monster.”

Louis shook his head sadly, even though Zayn couldn’t see the action. “You’re scared and distraught we know you don’t mean anything you say right now.” Finally lifting his head, wide red-rimmed eyes bore into Louis'.

“Oh I mean it alright; this just isn’t the time to go off.”

Louis' eyes harden. “Well shit Zee, I was trying to give you an excuse but alright gloves off, I think you’re being a complete knob right now.”

“Lou, don’t…” Liam warned, shooting his husband a look that went ignored.

“He may be your husband but he’s my best mate and they’ve put him in a coma because he’s got brain hemorrhaging and I—” Louis cut himself off with a sob as he slumped back against the wall and slowly slid down it until he was sat on the glossy white floor of the hospital.

“Babe…” Liam cried in concern, squatting down beside his spouse. Louis continued to sob hysterically, his breathing labored and erratic as he met Zayn’s eyes once more.

“I’ve been trying to be strong for you, I promised myself I’d be strong because you’ve got to be hurting so much more than I am but he’s always been like family to me—you both are and I feel so helpless right now because there’s nothing I can do but wait.”

“That’s all anyone can do right now, at least we’re doing it together, yeah?” Liam reminded, pulling the slighter man against his chest and stroking his hair until they’re interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

“Mr. Malik?”

Zayn shoots up from his seat at the sight of a nurse. “Yeah? I mean yes?”

She offers him a small smile. “Dr. Lester told me to come tell you when it was alright for you to go visit with Mr. Styles.”

“It’s Malik…we’re married.”

She flushes. “Oh pardon me.”

“It’s alright, thank you love.” Liam assures her on his friend’s behalf and helps Louis stand so the nurse can escort them all to Harry’s room.

With the door still closed Zayn draws in a deep breath and braces himself for what he’ll find on the other side of it. Only nothing can truly prepare him for the sight of the love of his life looking pale and fragile in a hospital bed, hooked up to several machines. He’s got a bandage around his head to cover the gash in his forehead as well as multiple cuts and bruises along his face and hands from the shattered windshield.

Zayn brings a hand up to cover his mouth. “His hands, oh god he’s a professional guitarist—his hands are basically his life.” He whimpers out, desperately turning to the nurse for answers.

Worrying her bottom lip, she looks over Harry’s chart.

“We can’t know for sure until he wakes up but from what the doctor has gathered, all his injuries aside from his head are superficial, so fortunately that means no nerve damage. He did suffer a few bruised ribs from the impact but luckily there were no fractures, though it was a near thing.”

Moving into the room Zayn sidles up to Harry’s left side, gingerly caressing one of the cuts on his husband’s hand and can’t help the tears that roll down his cheeks, fat drops that fall only to dot Harry’s powder blue hospital blanket.

“Baby.” Zayn croaks out, his throat dry and threatening to close on him, he barely twitches when Louis comes up to hug him from behind, clinging to his back like a koala and sniffling wetly into his shoulder.

+++

Hours later and Zayn still refused to leave Harry’s side, he’d called the Atkin’s to ask his neighbor if she could keep Zach overnight and spoke briefly to his son, explaining to him that he had to be a good boy for Miss Louise, to eat all his veggies, and go to bed when she says to. His little boy agrees, sounding a bit confused but also excited at the thought of a sleepover at his friend Lux’s house.

Liam and Louis stay with him as long as they can but eventually exhaustion catches up with them and they make him promise to eat something and try and get some rest. He agrees to appease them but so far hasn’t been able to rouse himself to leave his chair except to use the bathroom.

Instead he just sat there watching Harry’s eyelids flutter as if dreaming, cradling his left hand in both his, the swelling had finally gone down enough that Zayn was able to slide his wedding band back on, so now he rubbed his finger along the elegant band, counting out each stone with the rough pad of his finger and he couldn’t help but think of the first time he’d met Harry—first laid eyes on the most beautiful man and just knew that he was special.

+++

-2016-

He’d been hired to cover the wedding of this well to do couple that upon first meeting, he didn’t understand how the pair could be days away from getting married they were so utterly different, with severely clashing personalities. The slighter man was loud and brash, and quite stubborn while the broader man—the one fitting the bill was much more reserved, happy to placate his fiancé on most matters until his demands grew too outrageous and over the top, forcing him to step in.

In fact, in their short meeting the two had gotten into three separate arguments, one about whether they wanted black and white prints, color or a mix of the two, that had somehow lead them into a fight about seating arrangements for the reception, which didn’t even concern Zayn but he’d been too afraid of the heat behind the smaller man’s blue eyes to dare try and interrupt to say as much.

Seating arrangements turns into the loud one asking why his fiancé insisted on inviting two of his exes to the ceremony. The last of which had the ruffled man pushing his chair away from the table and stomping out the door of the café, only to return seconds later and drag his chair as close to the other man’s as he could in order to cuddle up to his side, cooing his apologies into the side of his neck.

Zayn had had to look away then.

Now watching the two men exchange vows through the lens of his camera, their eyes shining with so much love and adoration, he finally saw it, finally understood how they worked.

They were madly in love…anyone with eyes could see it, the looks they were exchanging up there at the altar just couldn’t be faked and Zayn knew that so long as they had that they would probably happily spend the rest of their lives arguing over the smallest, most trivial things rather than be without each other.

This he was sure of, without even really knowing the two men, his camera never lied.

He’d already gotten the glamour shots and photos with the family over and done with before the ceremony and it’s a good thing too because once the vows are said and the two men have their very first kiss as husbands everyone—grooms included - hightailed it to the reception, to eat and swarm the open bar.

It’s one of the many perks Zayn enjoys about doing weddings all the free food and booze he could want once he’s off the clock which is technically an hour or two after the newlyweds’ share their first dance but Zayn usually likes to keep his camera handy just in case something truly spectacular happens.

Glancing over to the couple in question he watches them for a moment with a soft smile as they playfully wrestle, the smaller man— _Louis_ he reminds himself, having sat through not one, but three different best man speeches, he ought to remember the man’s name by now—trying his damndest to spoon feed his new husband Liam something off his plate, only for Liam to bat him away grinning so hard his eyes all but disappear into crinkles.

The sight makes something ache in Zayn as he is reminded of his own empty queen-sized bed waiting for him back at his flat. He doesn’t bother to try and recall the last time he had someone to share it with, doesn’t need a reason to hit the bar early.

He checks his camera’s settings before bringing it up to his face in hopes of catching the sweet moment only to frown in confusion when his lens is suddenly filled with a mountain of chestnut curls and the click goes off before he can stop it.

Cursing at the wasted shot he drops the camera down once more, already glaring at the git whose stepped in front of him, bollocksing the picture, when his mouth suddenly goes dry as the owner of said curls turns ever so slightly, leaning forward to whisper to the girl sat across the table from him, a lovely girl with a quiet elegance about her—it could’ve been the long wispy white dress that made her look a bit like a Greek goddess or perhaps it was the air in which she held herself, but either way Zayn found it hard to tear is eyes away from her long enough to read her name card.

 _Eleanor, then_. He thought to himself, finally dragging his eyes back to the other man he was again struck dumb by his beauty, he was in no way the most attractive man Zayn has ever seen but there was this allure about him that made Zayn’s hand’s itch to capture it on film, something about the slope of his nose, the unique shade of green to his eyes, or the curve of his pillowy pout as Eleanor says something teasing.

Before Zayn’s very eyes that pout melts into a blinding smile as the man throws his head back, letting out the least attractive bark of laughter Zayn has ever heard and before he can stop himself his camera is at his face once more and three consecutive snaps go off.

His job becomes exceedingly harder after that, having to fight the urge to waste his entire film on the curly-topped man alone but he somehow manages to get the couple and their other guests, though it’s a near miracle—he just can’t stop his eyes from following the other man, as though magnetized, tracking his every move able to effortlessly pick him out of the crowd.

There was something so fluid about his movements, even when he almost stumbles over his own dress shoes headed to the dance floor with one of the grooms’ nans he manages to catch himself, playing it off with a chuckle so easily that it almost looks as though that had been his intention all along.

And Zayn’s camera catches it all.

By the time he’s allowed to ‘punch out’ Zayn does so with an eagerness comparable to a child being let out to recess, dragging himself to the bar and gesturing desperately to the bartender for something strong and hoping it translated.

All night he’d been studying the man with the curls, trying to gauge what team he played for, not that he thought anything would come of his infatuation, he was a confident man sure, but he’s never been one for pulling while on the job. And as far as he can tell, the man is quite the charmer, flirting about with everyone he comes into contact with, mostly Nans and the twin flower girls, twirling them about on the dance floor and making them feel included in an otherwise adult situation.

Zayn feared briefly that he and the lovely Eleanor might be something more than friends but then Zayn caught her and an equally attractive woman with glittering brown eyes and matching brown hair that cascaded down her back in soft waves, whose place card read: Danielle trading quick kisses as they danced to an old Take That ballad, the resulting picture he snapped was breathtaking.

It wasn’t until Zayn stumbled upon the man tucked away in a corner, talking closely with an impossibly tall bloke with a towering quiff and disarming smile, their posture familiar and intimate, if the confident way he rested an open hand on the curly lad’s waist was anything to go by and it became all too clear what side he batted for and whose team in particular he was on.

Thanking the bartender, Zayn all but snatched his drink from him and downed the mysterious brown liquid in one go, wincing as it burned its way down, coating his insides with liquid fire. He nodded to the bartender for another one and dropped his head into his folded arms on the bar top to wait.

Zayn feels someone climb up on the stool beside his, bringing a brief gust of wind with them that smells heavenly all rich, spicy and a bit intoxicating, if Zayn is being honest.

“Friend of the groom or the…groom?” A deep raspy voice asks, making Zayn snort into his sleeve before lifting his head.

“Neither I’m actually the photog—”

“The photographer, right. That would explain the clunky yet snazzy necklace.” He joked, gesturing to Zayn’s pride and joy, his trusty Nikon D810 hanging from his neck.

“What this old thing?” It’s the taller boy’s turn to snort, signaling to the bartender for one of whatever Zayn is having before sliding his eyes back to Zayn.

“So, do you come here often?” The words are barely out his mouth before they’re both wincing. “Fuck don’t answer that—I’m an idiot and I—” Despite the other man’s efforts to backtrack Zayn finds himself nodding with a wry quirk to his lips.

“Yes actually…my roommate basically knows everyone there is to know in London and has drummed up more than a fair share of business for me in the past year and this hall is a pretty popular wedding locale.”

“Oh, well that’s aces then isn’t it, cheers.” He says lifting his drink when the bartender slides it across the bar to him.

“Uh thanks?” A silence falls around them and it isn’t at all comfortable, Zayn’s still a bit unsettled, can’t wrap his head around what the guy said before asking him if he came here often—a classic chat up line…was he being pulled?

The man must spy something when he glances over Zayn’s shoulder because he suddenly stiffens eyes bugging out. “Shit…I know we’ve only just met but I need to ask you a favor.”

“Um…”

“I’m going to tell you something and I need you to laugh as loudly as you can, really go for it like it’s the best thing you’ve heard in your entire life—please.”

“Erm, alright?”

“Yes, great! So a Polar bear walks into a bar and says ‘can I have a gin?’” The guy pauses, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, his knee jiggling in anticipation and Zayn thinks to himself, is that it? Is he meant to laugh now? He starts to do just that, even though that has to have been the worse joke he’s ever heard in the history of terrible jokes and doesn’t quite deserve such a reaction but before he can the guy opens his mouth so Zayn snaps his closed again, “…and tonic please?’ The bartender serves him and asks ‘why the long pause?’ the Polar bear looks down and shrugs ‘don’t know I’ve always had them!’” Curly finishes with a self-satisfied smile, waiting patiently for Zayn’s reaction

Admittedly while the joke was still pretty awful, it was just bad enough to be a bit funny and so it wasn’t as hard as Zayn thought it would be, throwing his head back and letting out a bellowing laugh, really going for it with a hand on his abs, cracking up as though he were attending a Chris Rock show and not sat at a bar with a bloke who thinks he’s punny.

He’s still at it when a gentle hand rests on his knee and his laugher is abruptly cut off by shock and is eyes snap open to meet startling green, a shade that he’s sure he’s never seen before but wouldn’t mind staring into for the rest of his life if he’s being honest.

“You can let up now, he’s gone.”

 _He? He who?_ “He?”

“My Ex.” He admits, pointing vaguely over Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn turns slightly only to find the incredibly tall bloke he’d seen curly with not five minutes ago looking all cozy in the corner—it’s what had driven him to drink in the first place, the thought of the two of them being flirty and possibly leaving the wedding together at the end of the night, though he knew he had no right to feel this way about a perfect stranger, he couldn’t help it. “I saw him headed this way and we’ve already had more than enough awkward conversation tonight to hold me over until the next time we run into each other ta.”

“Your ex?” He knew he was probably coming off as a right git, parroting everything the other man said and not really contributing at all to the conversation, but he was just so confused.

“Yeah, Nick Grimshaw…that’ll teach me to date a semi-high profile bloke, can’t turn the radio or TV on anymore without hearing or seeing him or something about him it’s terrible really but in a way it’s helped—think they call it exposure therapy, where instead of avoiding the thing you’re trying to get over you surround yourself with it until you’re no longer affected by it? I think it’s worked because I’m definitely over him, just not sure if we’ll ever be able to be the mates we promised each other we would be when we called things quits over a year ago.” Zayn’s eyes widen and he swerves around to give the bloke a better look and sure enough it _is_ Grimmy from the Radio and most recently the newest series of The X Factor.

“I’m Harry, by the way, figure you’ve the right to know the name of the guy who’s just used you to fend off their ex.” He grins again, showing off both of his dimples and effectively melting all of Zayn’s insides as he thrusts a hand out for him to shake.

“Zayn.” He croaks, taking the proffered hand and trying his damndest not to physically shiver as his smooth skin collides with Harry’s rough and callused own, making Zayn curious to know what the man did for a living to cause them. “Zayn Malik.”

+++

“We talked for the rest of the night. I learned he’s from Bradford originally, has three sisters, and an American Bulldog named Gus. He will literally murder for good curry or his mum’s samosas, lives with two blokes a singer/songwriter/amateur music producer and a fancy architect and I think I’m proper in love Lou!”

“Uh, huh that’s nice, Haz.” Louis murmured from his seat at the dining table while he sifted through the wedding photos that had just arrived in the mail. It had been about a week since the wedding and Harry would not shut up about the gorgeous bloke he’d met at the bar.

Sitting up on the couch, Harry peeked over the back to glare at his mate. “Louis, are you even listening?”

Louis hummed, distracted. “Mostly, you met a bloke at a wedding—shocker, congratulations, you’re officially starring in your very own romantic comedy.”

“Oh piss off…where’s Liam when you need a proper adult?” Harry whined, crossing his arms over his chest like an angry toddler.

“At work, like a _proper adult_. You wound me. What’s even the issue here? Did you get shot down when you asked him for his number, or summat?”

Harry let out an agonized sound and fell dramatically onto his back once more, throwing an arm over her face for good measure even though the other man couldn’t see it. “That’s just it, Lou, I didn’t ask for his number and he didn’t ask for mine. We have this incredible conversation, talking for at least an hour and a half before the bartender called last call because you were apparently ‘sleepy’ - which I didn’t buy for a second by the way, no one did—I’m pretty sure your Nan even knew that ‘sleepy’ was code for ‘I want to go home and ravage my new husband’.”

Louis looks up, just enough to flick his fringe out of his eye, otherwise completely unbothered. “You say that like I care…you’re all lucky I didn’t drag that man to the nearest cupboard or loo to have my way with him, have you _seen_ Liam? Noticed those cannons he’s passing off as arms?”

Harry let out a snort of laughter, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Lou, I have both seen and drooled over Liam’s arms with you on too many occasions to be proud of.”

“Damn right you have, my hubby is a hottie.” Harry didn’t have to be able to see his friend to know he was doing his ‘I am the luckiest fucker on the planet’ booty dance.

Harry blew out an annoyed breath. “Louis, focus, we’re talking about me right now and my utter failure to get possibly the man of my dreams’ number.”

As if finally hearing what Harry has been saying all this time, Louis' head shoots up and again Harry knows his mate so well he can tell without looking that he’s shooting him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? How did you let this happen? You learned how to pull from the master!!!” That deserves a mighty eye roll, followed closely by a wave of shame as he sits up to meet Louis' eyes over the back of the couch.

“Yeah whatever you say, but I have no clue how it happened, I mean there we were sat toying with our drinks, trying to make them last and I wanted to ask him, I swear but he’s proper fit and I guess I choked, waited for him to ask instead and he just never did.”

“Oi, _you’re_ proper fit, if you’ve forgotten.” He’s glaring now, but his expression softens with his next words. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this rattled over someone before.”

Harry throws his hands up and whimpers. “I know; I know but you didn’t _see_ him, Lou, he could be a model in his spare time…he could definitely do better’n me.”

“Harold.” Louis says suddenly, and sternly making Harry hang his head because there’s a lot of thing Louis will not stand for and his best mate downing himself is at the top of the list.

“I know!”

Louis looks up from the photos in his hand once more. “No, I mean Harold, there’s something I want to show you, get yer little arse over here!” He says snapping his fingers impatiently when Harry doesn’t immediately jump up off the couch at his command.

Grudgingly Harry peels himself from the couch and comes up to Louis' side draping all of his weight onto the smaller man’s shoulder in retaliation as he peers down at the photos now fanned out on the table in front of him. “Um…ok, these are picture from the wedding, they came out great but do I need to remind you I was there because really, Lou…” Louis pulls an irritated face.

“I know that, ya twat, but look a little closer…notice any themes?” Harry gives the pictures another look and shakes his head, the only theme he sees is the wedding scheme which was red and white, in honor of Louis' beloved Rovers

 “Uh no, should I?”

Louis lets out an animalistic growl. “Damnit, Styles. It’s _you_ , you’re in nearly every single one!”

Harry glances at the photos a third time and finally sees what Louis is talking about and can’t help but chuckle. “Oh yeah, wow. Guess I really got around that night, eh?” Louis closes his eyes and breathes in deep through his nose to calm himself before opening them once more.

“ _OR_ someone made it a point to get you in every shot…your mystery man, did he by any chance tell you what he did for a living?” Harry’s eyebrows screw up in thought as he tried to recall the details of that night and it takes less than a minute before he’s gasping, remembering what all the booze he’d drunk that night tried to make him forget.

The camera that had hung from Zayn’s neck, remembered the other man bringing it up to his face and playfully prompting Harry to say cheese more than a few times throughout the night.

“Oh my god, I’m an idiot he was the photographer for the wedding he told me that and somehow I forgot.”

Louis simply nodded as though he’d already come to that conclusion ages ago and was just waiting for the younger man to catch up, looking more than a little smug. “Uh huh, so you know what this means?”

Harry didn’t, he had no clue what this could mean, except that he was a complete and utter idiot who didn’t deserve Zayn’s number if he couldn’t even remember what he was even doing at the wedding in the first place, not being a friend or family to either groom.

Louis rolled his eyes, hard. “It means I am basically Santa Claus and your own personal god all in one, for I hold here in my hand something that will make you my bitch for all of eternity.”

Harry shot him a dubious look that went unnoticed as Louis dug around in his wallet for something before producing a little while rectangle and holding it up triumphantly as though it were the last golden ticket into Wily Wonka’s chocolate factory.

“I highly doubt that.” He said, causing Louis to raise an eyebrow as if to say _oh no_ before he flipped the little white card over in his hand to reveal Zayn’s full name and number.

Harry stared at the business card for a few beats before sinking to his knees at Louis' feet. “What can I do for you, master?”

Louis smirked. “You can start by getting up off the floor—look like a bloody prat, ya do, then go get us a coupla beers while I figure out what you’re going to say when you call him.”

+++

Shuffling out of his bedroom with sleep crust still wedged in the corner of one eye, Zayn simultaneously yawned and scratched at his belly where his t-shirt had ridden up as he all but fell into the nearest seat which just happened to be at the battered four person card table where they did most of their eating and let out a random noise in greeting.

He could never be counted on for any sort of conversation first thing when he woke up, which granted was much later than the average person but he loved to sleep, he’d do it all day every day if he didn’t have those pesky bodily needs to take care of, like eating and showering and whatnot.

Niall, one of his best friends and flat mates, was already in the kitchen cooking up something that smelled delicious and had Zayn’s belly grumbling so loud the blonde turned to shoot him an amused look.

“Hungry?” He asked simply, waving the spatula in his hand. Zayn grunted and made some sort of vague hand gesture that he hoped Niall would decode to mean yes please and put a pot of coffee on while you’re at it.

It was a true testament to how long they’ve known each other that Niall shook his head with a chuckle and leaned over to flip the coffeemaker on. Zayn hummed his thanks and brought a fist up to rub the crust from his eye.

Minutes later, with coffee in hand, Zayn was finally able to form complete sentences as he turned his mobile on to check his voicemail and asks “What’s for breakfast, then?” He doesn’t quite appreciate his mate’s snort.

“Breakfast? Try lunch bro, it’s almost two in the afternoon and I’m making spaghetti with chicken meatballs.”

“Yum.” Zayn said, looking up from his mobile to shoot the other man an annoyed look. “And hey, no judging my Vampiric lifestyle…do I ever say anything about you staying out all night, drinking like some kind of lush?”

“You just did.” Niall pointed out, like the smart arse he was. “But Zee, I’m a bartender, my job is to serve drinks—not drink and party all night.” Zayn gave him a blank look until the blonde finally caved. “Alright, so I _do_ drink and party with the regulars most nights but it’s technically not in my job description, and even so, I still manage to get up before noon each day, unlike you.”

“Well whoop-dee-doo, aren’t you lucky, too bad we can’t all be smug Irish fuck wads who’re completely immune to hangovers...”

The argument, if you can really call it that, continues for a bit more but it’s good naturedly and trails off once Zayn’s phone makes its usual chirps and beeps as all his apps open. Checking his notifications, he okays two updates his phone insists it needs to make, makes a note to check his email and sees he’s got two voicemails waiting for him but before he can thumb the call button to hear them, his phone starts buzzing right in his hand with an incoming call from an unknown number, which either meant potential customer, telemarketer or his crazy ex-girlfriend Perrie, who just couldn’t take a hint.

Taking a deep breath, he said a little prayer for the former and hit the answer button.

“Zayn Malik’s phone.”

_“H—hi, my name is Harry Styles.”_

“Hello Mr. Styles, what can I do for you?”

_“Just Harry please and I was wondering if you did um, headshots?”_

“Headshots…”

_“For my portfolio, I’m an aspiring musician, you see, and I thought it would look better to have professional headshots done so I got your number off a mate.”_

“Sure, sure I can do headshots, it’d be a first for me but I’m more than capable.”

_“Great, so I was thinking we could set up a meeting where we can talk things over face to face and I could maybe take a look at some of your work…”_

“Yes, yes of course.”

They make plans to meet at a smoothie shop across town later that day and Zayn ends the call smiling from ear to ear for some reason, chalks it up to being excited at the prospect of doing something new for a change, something other than a wedding or baby shower.

“Good news?” Niall asks once Zayn’s hung up.

“Yeah, got a job.” Zayn informs, voicemails forgotten for the moment in favor of him wondering what he’s going to wear since it’s been a while since he’s done laundry.

“I heard. Someone wants headshots…you meeting with an actor or summat?” Zayn shrugged, even though Niall’s back was to him.

“Musician, said he got my name off a mate. Do you know a bloke named Harry Styles?”

He watches Niall scratch the sparse hairs on his chin that he hasn’t yet shaved off this morning in thought before finally shaking his head. “Not ringing any bells, sorry.”

“S’alright, we’re meeting in a public place—you know that new smoothie shop downtown, so if he turns out to be a kook at least he won’t be able to get me alone to slash my throat.”

“Fuck Zee, why would you even say something like that to me, you know how I worry. You need me to come with ya just in case? I can sit at another table and just be there to step in if things get hairy?” The blonde looked deathly serious, his mind no doubt going to the darkest of places but all Zayn could do was smirk.

“Did you just make a pun?”

Niall eyebrows screw up. “Not intentionally—god Zayn, what is with you and puns lately? Ever since that last wedding you did you’ve been making terrible ones and looking for ‘em in just about anything me or Ed say.”

“It’s nothing just, well you remember me telling you about that guy.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Who dimples?” He asks but his expression says he already knows the answer.

“Yeah him, he had a thing for puns, snuck like three on top of the one about the polar bear into the conversation and they were horrendous but _he_ was adorable.” Zayn finishes with a dreamy look in his eyes, resting his chin in his hands.

“So you’ve said.” Niall muttered focusing on stirring his sauce.

“Aw is little Nialler jealous?” He shoots for playful but there’s a little sympathy to his tone knowing his mate has been struggling lately to find someone—finally turning to the Internet.

Niall shakes his head. “Not really, I’d be more jealous if you’d actually sealed the deal and got the lad’s number.” Zayn flinches, and takes his silent sympathy back.

“Low blow, babe.”

“Soz, it’s just still sorta hard to accept that you met your supposed soul mate at a wedding and let him just slip through your fingers like that.”

“Dude, he’s not my ‘soul mate’ Jesus, it was like one conversation...one amazing conversation that went on for like three hours, my arse had literally gone numb from sitting on that shitty stool but I didn’t care, wasn’t bored and probably could’ve willingly gone on for three more hours but we were also pretty pissed by that point. What if what I remember as being _amazing_ was really crap but I was just too drunk to notice? Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t get his number?”

“Was he at least fit?”

Zayn glowers.

“You _know_ he was.” He’d definitely gone a bit wax poetic about Harry’s sea foam green eyes on more than one occasion since that day, so his mate should know in excruciating detail just how fit the lad was.

“Then you’re full of shit and just trying to justify being a ponce and not getting his number.”

“I literally hate you.” Zayn whined, dropping his head onto the table.

To Zayn’s horror Niall’s only response was to laugh. “Do you know what the word ‘literally’ means? Because you love me bro, I’m cooking for you.”

Zayn sat up straight again. “Fuck ok, yeah I do, and I’d love you even more if you let me raid your closet for something to wear to this meeting.” Niall glanced over his should just in time to catch sight of the serious puppy eyes Zayn was sporting, batting his lashes at him and laughed a second time.

“Like I don’t know you well enough to know you’re going to do it regardless of what I say.”

Zayn didn’t even pretend that wasn’t exactly what was going to happen and flashed him his most winning smile instead. “True but I’d feel a lot less guilty about it if I had your permission.”

Niall shrugged and killed the stove’s flame. “What’s mine is yours babe until you off and marry some poor sod.”

“That’s why I love you really, Niall.” Zayn cooed, blowing a kiss at the back of Niall’s head.

“Yeah-yeah, how hungry are ya?” He asked, already fixing a plate for Zayn.

“Sooo hungry.” Niall turned his head just for the benefit of rolling his eyes and silently forking a second helping onto Zayn’s plate.

+++

Harry could see Zayn was already inside waiting for him in a corner booth through the store’s window and immediately felt butterflies take flight inside his stomach the closer he got to the entrance.

Zayn looked so good, is the thing, even better than he had in a smart suit. Today he looks relaxed and comfortable and him, in a plain in coral button up with little palm trees all over it and a tight pair of black jean that fit him like a second skin—god why hadn’t he agreed to let Lois dress him.

Counting down from five in his head to calm himself, he pulled open the door and slipped inside.

He saw it the moment recognition hit Zayn but not before he gave Harry the once over, clearly liking what he saw until his gaze reached Harry’s and he had to blink twice, probably to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, immediately standing from his seat to greet him.

“Harry?”

“Zayn.” Harry sighs, taking him in fully, god he looked like a dream.

Zayn’s face lit up completely and without warning he’s engulfing Harry in a friendly hug. “Wow, I can’t believe it, Niall told me to leave the house more often and I might run into you but I didn’t listen because first rule to being friends with Niall is he’s complete shit at giving advice.”

Harry didn’t have the first clue who this Niall was but he found himself chuckling anyway. “Well actually…” He breathes out, having been caught off guard by the contact.

Zayn finally pulls back to hold Harry at arm’s length. “You look good, how have you been?”

“What this old thing?” Harry jokes, a throwback to their first conversation and brushing invisible lint off his black YSL shirt with gold trim that Louis had gotten for him a few Christmas’ ago. “I’ve been good but about why I’m here—” Zayn pulls an apologetic face.

“Oh shoot, that reminds me, I’m actually here to meet a potential client, he should be here any minute or else I’d invite you to sit but if you wouldn’t mind sticking around or actually, give me your number this time we can go out some time and—”

“Zayn!” Harry raises his voice o cu the other man off. “About that client of yours…”

“What about him?”

“He is me.” Harry sighs hanging his head a smidge. “I mean I—I’m the one who called you.”

“You’re Harry Styles?”

“Yes but let me explain...”

Drawing back, Zayn gives him the once over. “Do you even need headshots done?”

Harry runs his hands through his hair looking sheepish. “Well no, but…”

“Then why’d you set up this meeting when you could’ve just told me who you were?”

“I know; I should have but I knew that this way you were guaranteed to show up.”

Zayn raises an incredulous eyebrow. “You didn’t think I’d show up for the fit bloke who chatted me up at the wedding?”

Harry opens his mouth more apologies on his tongue when he actually registers what Zayn’s just said.

“Fit?”

The other man chuckles. “Yes, Harry, fit—very fit.” Harry preens. “Are you even a musician?”

“That bits true.”

“Cool, maybe you can come sit down and tell me about it then?”

“Yeah?” He asked, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Did you already order then?”

“Order?”

“A smoothie…I’ve only been here like once and I got a pretty standard one but today I’m feeling a bit adventurous, will you be adventurous with me, Zee?”

Minutes later Harry returns to their table with their smoothies and Zayn eyes his with trepidation, given its ingredients, but when his eyes slide across the booth to meet sparkling green he can’t help but match his smile and raise his cup to meet Harry’s in a cheers.

“Bottoms up.”

They take their first sip together and it’s not half bad.

“So, not that I’m mad or anything, because truth be told, I’d rather see you again than a new client any day, but technically you’re wasting company time right now.”

“Um, sorry?” Harry apologizes, as he slurped another mouthful of smoothie through his straw.

Zayn snorted at the dimple and doe-eyes the other lad was shooting him. "I ought to charge you for my time, anyway."

It was Harry’s turn to snort, dropping the act. "Good luck with that mate, I couldn't afford you in my dreams."

"Oh no?"

"Not on the nonexistent salary of a broke struggling musician."

"Huh. Funny. Your mates had no trouble footing the bill, I didn't figure them for the type to slum with those beneath their social standings.”

"Yeah well, you thought wrong. Me and Lou have known each other since we were this high, he's no better off than me, think he just got fired from his third restaurant this month a couple days before the wedding in fact, but Liam loves him anyway, flaws and all. He's the one with the money owns a catering chain with locations all over England but mans the one here in London himself, that's how he and Louis met...Louis was hired to be a waiter at an event Liam catered and that was that."

"Love at first sight, eh?"

Harry let out a mocking laugh. "No, the exact opposite actually, loathe at first sight. Louis came home to the flat we shared at the time absolutely fuming, cursed Liam twelve ways from Sunday and claimed if he'd ever saw him again it would be too soon. Weeks went by and he just couldn't let it go so of course he would end up waiting yet another event that Liam was catering. They took one look at one another and got into it pretty bad, might've come to actual blows if they hadn't ended up snogging the breath out of each other instead."

“I can see that, when I first met with them I thought to myself, there was no way these two opposites of a coin could be getting married.”

“They get that a lot.”

“But then at the wedding, seeing them exchanging their vows with so much love and devotion in their voices, I quickly changed my tune.”

“They get that a lot too, pretty standard reaction actually, and the truth is, they don’t have very much in common but that’s what makes them work, if you can believe it. They balance each other out. Louis forces Liam out of his head; to relax and not miss out on life, otherwise it’d be all work all the time. As for Liam, he grounds Lou, who I’ve known forever and he’s more than a little flighty…why do you think he can’t hold down a job for more than a month or two?”

“Sounds like the dream, what all the rest of us hopeless schlubs are looking for.”

“Speak for yourself, I reckon myself more of a free spirit.”

“So in a word: schlub.” Zayn teases and Harry can’t help but think he could get used to seeing that smile.

“Are you hungry?” He blurts out, not ready to let this date end.

Zayn eyes their now empty cups. “Um…”

“I mean for solid food? There’s this diner just down the street that make the best waffles, they’re literally to die for.”

Zayn makes a thoughtful face. “Hmm, it seems you’ve found my weakness, Harry.”

“What waffles?” He tilts his head and the way he’s eyeing Harry made the taller boy squirm a bit as he realized that no, waffles weren’t Zayn’s weakness at all.

“Yeah…waffles let’s go with that.”

+++

-2022-

Bringing Harry’s hand up to his lips he pressed a gentle kiss to his husband’s knuckles, remembering how they’d gone to the diner and how Harry wouldn’t let him order anything but waffles, even though he’d been in the mood for an omelet, promising Zayn that he wouldn’t regret it, and he hadn’t. The diner’s waffles were amazing and Harry had even surprised him by offering him a taste of his own waffles and further shocked Zayn by actually feeding him with his own fork.

They talked about everything under the sun that night and still only barely made a dent, Zayn was intrigued and beyond smitten and just knew he wanted, no needed to know more.

The night’s end had sadly come much sooner than Zayn would’ve liked but he had Harry’s number programmed into his phone this time and the taste of Harry on his lips, the memory of which made him smile so big people started to shoot him funny looks on the bus ride home.

+++

Someone nudges Zayn softly and he startles awake, eyes wide and bloodshot from lack of sleep and for a moment he forgets where he is, confused by the pain in his neck. “Zayn, babe.” He slides squinted eyes over to Louis and immediately narrows them because the other man knows better than to wake him this early on a Sunday. “Have you been here all night? Have you even eaten?”

At first he doesn’t understand what Louis is talking about or why he’s using that tone with him, voice gentle and cautious as if he’s afraid of spooking him, that’s when he gives the room they’re in a better look and sits up straight when his eyes land on Harry. And all at once everything comes back to him.

“Oh god, baby…” Zayn chokes out, reaching out for Harry’s limp hand once more.

Louis makes a broken noise at the sight. “Zayn, have you eaten today?” He repeats, staying on track.

Zayn doesn’t even acknowledge him, eyes gone glassy as they scanned his husband’s injuries. “Oh god, Harry, my love, what have you done.”

Snapping his fingers in the other man’s face, Louis takes on a stricter tone, the same one Zayn uses when Zach begs for an extra hour of telly before bed, “Ay, focus Zee, when was the last time you ate?”

The dark man swallows, his throat making a dry clicking sound as he tries to remember his last meal. “Haven’t eaten since yesterday morning—pancakes with Zach.”

Louis clucks his tongue in disapproval. “Let’s get you down to the cafeteria for something, you need to get up and move around you’ve been in that chair for hours.” Zayn immediately give his head a vigorous shake, planting his feet when the other man tries forcibly tugging him up out of the chair.

“No, I’m not leaving him.”

“Babe, please.” Zayn wants to argue further, really put up more of a fight but there’s something in Louis' voice that has him rising from his chair. He’s never seen Louis so worn, so lost.

“Fine, I suppose I could use a coffee.”

Louis' shoulders relax in relief. “Great, they have a decent brew downstairs.” At this Zayn raises an eyebrow because he knows Louis wouldn’t touch the stuff if his mouth was on literal fire and coffee was the only thing on hand to put it out. “Or so Liam says.” He finishes, bristling slightly.

Louis orders them both veggie omelets and scarfs half his down while Zayn just pokes at his own, not really hungry despite the pang in his stomach.

“Eat up, s’pretty decent for hospital food.” Louis speaks around a mouthful of chewed up egg.

“Not really hungry.” He mumbles, just as his stomach gargles to belie that statement. Louis simply arches an eyebrow and Zayn slumps down in his seat, sucking his teeth in annoyance.

“Please just try, for me?” Louis bargains, going so far as to take Zayn’s fork from him and actually scoop some omelet onto it before setting it back in Zayn’s hand. “You know Haz would want you to take care of yourself during this time, what good would it do him when he finally wakes up and you’ve withered away to nothing?” He jokes, though the best he can muster is a halfhearted smirk.

Still staring at his omelet and not meeting Louis' eyes, Zayn lets out a shaky breath. “What if he doesn’t wake up?”

“Don’t be daft Zee, this is Harry. He’s not going anywhere, what and miss the next Rolling Stones reunion? I think not.” Despite himself, Zayn finds himself snorting and it’s the first time he doesn’t look like refried death so Louis counts it as a win.

“You’re such a dick.” Zayn mutters and finally brings the fork up to his lips.

“Yeah I know, now eat.” Louis ordered, waiting until Zayn has shoveled two bites into his gob before stealing some home fries off his plate.

+++

_Zayn:_

_The thing is, each one of us is the sum total of every moment that we’ve experienced with all the people we’ve ever known and it’s these moments that become our history. The things we cling to in times of chaos, when everything else has gone to shit we can think back to better times and even just for a moment be comforted, anchored by the sound of your lover’s laugh, the taste of your mum’s home cooking or the smell of your child’s hair just after a bath._

_The important details that are pieces of the complicated puzzle of life that when put together shape who you are_.

+++

-2016-

“Zee!!! Baby, come quick, Zaaaaaaayn!” Zayn sits up in bed alarmed, following the other man’s cries into the master bathroom.

“What is it babe, are you…” He asked, panting as frantic eyes scanned the other man for injury.

Harry’s arms flail. “I’ve got something in my eye, can feel it—oh god, please help.” Zayn relaxes, his expression blank as he stares incredulously at his boyfriend.

“Seriously Haz, I thought you were really…I thought it was a real emergency.” Harry lets out a pathetic whimper.

“It is! You know how I feel about things being in or around my eyes, m’sensitive. Now get over here and help me! I can feel it and it’s starting to burn.”

Zayn couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he drew closer. “Does it really or is it all in your head?”

“Zaaaaaaaayn!”

“Alright, alright hold still while I take a look.” Zayn peered at Harry’s glassy eye and immediately spotted the cause of his boyfriend’s panic. An eyelash. “It’s just a little eyelash, keep still and I’ll get it out for you, love.” He moved his hand up, making the younger man flinch and move away in fear and sighed, dropping his hand to Harry’s shoulder to still him and instead pursed his lips and blew gently until the lash disappeared.

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah babe, the big scary eyelash is gone.” Harry pouted, reaching out to whack him in his chest.

“Don’t make fun, it’s a legitimate fear, you know—a mild form of Ometaphobia—I looked it up.”

“I’m sorry babe, you know I don’t mean to make light of your feelings.” He assured him but the curly man just crossed his arms and continued to pout. “In fact, I’ve got a fear of my own.”

Curiously Harry unfolded his arms and turned to Zayn with interest. “Oh yeah and what’s that?”

“Blueballsaphobia, the fear that my dick might explode if you don’t put your mou—”

Harry reached out to whack him again. “You are the worst! I can’t believe you just…”

Zayn chuckled raising an arm to protect himself. “Oi, I just saved you from the treacherous eyelash, remember? I’m simply pointing out that as reward for my efforts you could, you know…” Zayn trailed off, eyes not so subtlety resting on his own crotch.

Harry smiled innocently back, showing off all his teeth. “You’re right, _my hero_ and I know just how I can thank you.” He promised in a sultry tone and without warning he swatted the other man in the sack and took off for the bedroom cackling.

+++

-2015-

When they first met Zayn was still in his last year of University, so on top of photographing weddings and the odd baby shower, Zayn also waited tables at this hole in the wall kabab shop not far from his flat. It was steady work that helped pay his share of the rent. However, being one of only three waiters, it made calling in sick at the last minute near impossible.

They hadn’t been dating a full month when Zayn drags himself from his bed and consequently Harry’s arms, sniffling loudly as he shuffles round the room, showering and then dressing for work, despite the fact that he obviously had the man-flu. He had no choice and as tempting as Harry’s whines to ‘come back to bed’ sounded, he forced himself out of the apartment before the younger lad could wrap those octopus arms of his around him.

He’s halfway through his shift and feeling like crap when he turns to collect his tip from the table that had just left, when he finds a medium sized box sat on the table and looks around curiously until he catches sight of Harry grinning at him from just outside the shop’s window. Zayn shoots him a curious look, which the other man only shrugs at, dimpling adorably at him before gesturing for Zayn to go on and open it.

Zayn glances around him again to make sure his other tables are good, that their water glasses don’t need refilling or anything, before lifting the box’s top and peering inside to see various items with a bright green note card sat on top it all.

 _For your nose…_ Zayn grabs for the box of tissues and grins adoringly out at his boyfriend before spying a second note card.

 _For your head…_ Beneath this note he finds a bottle of aspirin.

 _For your heart…_ A third one reads and it’s written on a post-it note stuck to the back of something, he flips it over and can’t help but coo aloud at the picture of Harry holding his old beat up acoustic. Zayn hugs the photo to his chest and blows Harry a kiss through the window which being the enormous dork that he is Harry pretends to catch and stick in his pocket. The final note simply says:

 _For later…_ and Zayn blindly reaches into the box for the final item, unwilling to take his eyes off Harry. He makes an embarrassed squeaking noise when he realizes it’s a brand new bottle of lube and promptly drops it back into the box, looking around to make sure no one saw it, before slyly waggling his eyebrows at his boyfriend in a silent promise that yes, that last item would definitely come in handy.

The pleased look he gets in return and feels a parade of butterflies take flight inside his belly as he watches Harry blow him an exaggerated kiss before walking off in the direction of the bus stop.

+++

-2016-

Zayn’s running late for a job, he was meant to be on his way to the Sanchez’s home fifteen minutes ago but he can’t for the life of him find his lucky camera strap—the one his littlest sister Safaa had made him one year at summer camp ages ago. He hasn’t gone on a job without it and would really rather not have to do so today. Hopelessly, he calls out to Harry for help.

“Hey H, have you seen my lucky camera strap?” Zayn hears the door to the bathroom open.

“Did you check the hall closet?” He hadn’t, because why the hell would it be in here, but desperation has him hurrying down the hall to said closet and of course that’s exactly where it is.

“Found it, thanks babe.” He calls again, tossing the strap around his neck then pauses as a thought suddenly occurs to him. “Babe, are you talking to me while dropping a deuce?”

There’s a heavy pause that has Zayn fidgeting nervously. “Erm yeah, I figured we’re married now, so what’s mine is yours, yeah?” Zayn cringes.

“Sure but don’t you think this is going a bit too far?”

“Nah you’re my _bruh_ usband there’s no such thing as too far.” Zayn groans inwardly and vows to have a chat with Harry about limiting the amount of time he spends around Niall from now on.

+++

-2022-

He makes it three days before he’s forced to leave his husband’s side, he’s called to talk to Zach several times but the novelty of sleeping over at the neighbors has clearly worn off, because the last time he spoke to the three-year-old, there was a telltale whine to his voice as he asked to speak to his daddy and that meant he was ready to come home.

So Zayn picked him up and made them both lunch to eat while Zach told him all about the fun he and Lux had had and tries his best to pay attention and not alarm his son but he can barely focus, his mind drifting to thoughts of his husband lying in a coma.

Eventually Liam dropped by to keep Zach occupied while Zayn goes and cleans himself up. Together the two of them try their best to explain the situation to the toddler, and settled on telling him that Harry was in a deep sleep that he would wake up from soon. That he had to be quiet when around his daddy so that he could get all the rest he needed.

To be honest, Zayn wasn’t sure how much of what he and Liam said the little boy actually understood but when Zayn brought him to the hospital later that day, Zach immediately hopped up into the chair in the corner with his stuffed giraffe to chatter quietly.

It broke Zayn’s heart to see his son completely dismiss his father and before he could stop himself he choked out. “You can talk to daddy if you want to Zach, you’ve just got to whisper and try not to get sad when he doesn’t answer back.”

The little boy looked up from his giraffe, head bobbling in an eager nod of understanding. “Iz becuz he iz asweep, Papa, I know.”

Zayn sniffed. “Exactly, but I know he would love to hear from you, to know you’re here.”

“Really?” Zach squeaked, his eyes widening to the size of saucers.

“Of course he loves you, so how about you come say hi?” Climbing down off the chair again, Zach shuffled over to Harry’s bedside, looking small—er and holding his plushie out in front of him, as if scared, but when he reached the bed he slowly lowered the stuffed animal, gently resting it beside his sleeping father and going up on his tip toes to lean in as close he could.

“Hi daddy, unca Leeum says you’re a bit poorly, so I bringed Jor-gee ta make ya feel bedder cuz cuddlin wit Jor-gee o ways makes me feel bedder wen I iz poorly. He’s my fren.” Zayn watched his three-year-old jabber on in a hushed voice to his husband and had to bring a shaky hand up to his mouth to stop from letting a sob escape at the sight.

+++

-2016-

Harry has always loved kids, Zayn did as well but on a normal—some day in the far off future when I’m married and financially stable—kind of way but not Harry. It was like he’d come out of the womb lactating or something. And at first it was a lot of pressure on Zayn, who loved Harry and definitely saw a future with him, however that future didn’t have the pitter-patter of little feet running down the hall…just yet.

They’d only been dating a year but he already knew that Harry could be the one, his forever. His friends and flat mates Niall and Ed constantly took the piss out of him for it, not that he cared. He wasn’t ashamed of what he a Harry shared, if anything he pitied his mates who couldn’t grasp how special what they had was, because they had never experienced it themselves.

He’s up earlier than he’d like to be due to a job he’s got in less than an hour and Harry’s treated them all by cooking breakfast—he’s been staying over more often lately and for all his mates piss and moan about the curly haired lad being a ‘rotten freeloader’ they sure sing his praises when he repays them in food and terrible puns.

They like him; Zayn can tell and is eternally grateful for the fact because he could never choose between them if that weren’t the case.

Looking around the kitchen/dining room Zayn wonders where the man of the hour is as he watches the other two go about portioning out the food onto four plates. The bedroom was empty when he left it and Harry wasn’t in the loo when he passed by, so the only other place Harry could be was outside, so he makes his way to the door.

That’s exactly where he finds him, doing pirouettes on the front lawn with their neighbors’ four year old Lux. Dressed in only his pants and a fuzzy pair of frog slippers his sister Gemma got him a couple Christmases ago, the mail clutched between his lips as he helps the little girl do a twirl. He’s a natural, kids love him and the feeling is more than mutual, and for the first time Zayn wants it too, wants to get down on one knee and promise Harry the world.

But first.

“Hey.”

Tearing his eyes away from the small child, Harry notices Zayn standing in the doorway and gifts him with a beaming smile. “Hiiii.”

“You coming in to eat anytime soon or?”

“Of course!” Turning back to Lux, who Zayn just realized is already dressed as a Princess and it’s only 7am and bows to her, bringing her pudgy little hand up to his lips for a chaste kiss, which makes her giggle and curtsey back before running home.

“So is this what passes for royal attire these days?” Zayn teases, pinching Harry’s bum as he squeezes passed him into the flat.

“Oh hush, I only went out to collect the mail for you lot and ran into Lou and Lux.”

“Oh? I didn’t see Lou.”

Harry flushes. “She’d gone back in to finish fixing Lux’s brekkies.”

“And you just decided to play Princess right there on the lawn?”

“Princess _Ballerinas_.” Harry corrects, as if that were the most pressing part. “And yes.”

Zayn shakes his head in amusement as he watches Harry make his way over to the refrigerator and pull out a bowl of fresh strawberries that he no doubt got at the Farmer’s Market. His mind made up.

“Good morning lads, anyone want some fresh fruit with their artery clogging breakfast?”

“No thanks.” Niall sing-songed back happily, grinning at Harry with bits of sausage in his teeth. “I’m good with the meat and what’s this thing called again?”

“Frittata.”

“Yeah that’s it, ta mate.”

“At least I was able to sneak a few veggies in.” Harry mumbles under his breath, fondly watching the blonde shove two forkfuls of egg into his gob as he set the strawberries down in the middle of the table just in case.

“So you spent the night again I see, didn't _think_ I heard you leave last night.” Ed says offhand, bringing his tea up to his mouth.

“Uh, yeah is that alright?”

Niall shrugs, not bothering to look up from his food. “You’re here more often than not, you should just move in already or how about this, you stay here and I’ll go live in that swanky flat yer paying rent on.”

Harry laughs, though it’s not anything close to his usual laugh and Zayn can tell he’s uncomfortable. “I didn't realize I stayed over so much, am I that much of a pain?” He jokes, trying to lighten the conversation.

“Eh I wouldn't say that, the flat’s definitely been a whole lot cleaner since you've been coming around.”

“And we eat so much healthier too.” Niall threw in, reaching out for a strawberry and making a show of popping it into his mouth.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well anything is a step up from a steady diet of cold pizza and Twizzlers but I’ll take the compliment."

"The flat sure smells better since you started bringing yer fancy candles that smell like French toast.” The blonde added, taking in a huge gulp of breath to prove his point.

“Bro, just wait until that one's done I bought this new candle online that's supposed to smell like bacon.”

“Yer taking the piss.” Niall accuses looking slack-jawed.

“I’m not...Bacon. Scented. Candle.”

Niall is practically drooling when he turns to his mate. “Zen, what're you waiting for you better go on and marry 'im before I snatch him up and do the honors!” It’s an empty threat, of course it is, but it still makes something jump in Zayn’s belly at the thought of someone stealing Harry away.

He pretends to glare at the blonde. “Forgive me if your threat doesn't scare me, seeing as he's a dude and you’re a total slave to vag." Niall simply hoots, waggling his eyebrows as he made a grab for another strawberry, much to Harry’s pleasure. To Zayn he scrunches up his nose.

"Gross babe, but seriously am I that much of a pest? I could stop staying over so often."

Ed makes a thoughtful noise, nodding his head slowly as he seemed to seriously contemplate this. “You could.” He agrees then surprises Harry by sticking his finger up as an idea suddenly occurred to him. “ _Or_ you could just move in.” He points out, repeating Niall’s earlier words.

Harry who had been nodding right along with him out of habit suddenly froze, nearly choking on the strawberry he’d been chewing. "Wait what?"

Grinning Niall tosses him a banana shaped key ring with a key identical to Zayn's hanging from it.

Looking from the key ring to the men sat round the table and back again, his mouth gaping open in shock. "Are…are you guys serious?"

Ed shrugged, mouth stretching in a Cheshire cat smile. "We know you're _technically_ dating Zayn but we're sort of fond of you too."

"Not to mention Zee’s a right whiney arsehole when you're not around." Niall teases, narrowly dodging the stale muffin Zayn throws at his head.

"Thanks for that boys, babe, what the lads are trying to say—awfully by the way, is...do you wanna live with us, I mean me...permanently?"

“Oh right because that was _loads_ better.” Niall grumbles, yelping when Ed not so gently elbows him in his side to shut him up but Zayn and Harry don’t pay them any mind trapped in a stare that radiated with so much joy, adoration, and, most of all, love.

Harry’s smile is a bit watery when he vehemently nods his head, his curls whipping in a frenzy around his head as he darts forward to press a shaky kiss to Zayn’s lips, his entire body trembling with happiness.

“Yes, fuck—of course!”

+++

-2022-

Zayn gets a text from Niall that he and Ed are in the waiting room and quickly collects Zach, his feet moving of their own accord, carrying him to his awaiting friends. The minute he catches sight of familiar blonde and orange he’s got just enough forethought to pass Zach to Niall before he all but falls into Ed’s arms.

The three of them stand there hugging with poor Zach trapped between them, and before he can stop them, tears start making their way down Zayn’s cheeks, in big fat drops that soak the collar of Ed’s grey t-shirt where he’s got his nose buried.

Finally, after a bit, Zayn allows himself to be led over to the seating area where they sit, Niall and Ed on either side of him as he fills them in on what’s going on while Zach bounces on Niall’s knee toying with the blonde’s phone and not paying them any mind.

“We came as soon as we got back in town; we sent you texts but figured you were a bit busy.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’ve just been a mess since all this happened haven’t really slept, haven’t been eating—I just forget to sometimes, haven’t checked my phone in ages so I never got them, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Zee we understand, can’t even imagine what you’re going through—I _love_ Haz but he’s your…god!”

“It’s not been easy but at least he’s not—at least he’s still you know? He can still wake up; I don’t even want to think about if he…”

“Then don’t, babe that’s not the case so don’t even think about it, yeah?”

“You’re right; I just don’t think I could do this alone, ya know?”

“Do what?”

“Anything. Everything. _Life_ —raise Zach, I just couldn’t.”

“You could, you’re strong and you know Harry would want you to, but thankfully we won’t have to worry about that because he’s going to wake up any day now, making bad hospital puns and chastising you for not keeping up with your kale smoothie and Sunday yoga regime while he’s been in a coma!”

Zayn sniffles. “That does sound like him.” He agrees with a wet watery laugh.

“Course it does, I’ve only known the guy seven years!” Niall grunts at the same time that Zach cries out.

“I dids it!” He tells no one in particular flapping the hand that held the phone around in excitement.

“What’s that lil man?”

“I got da froggie ta hop ova der wader juss like Daddy teached me!”

“That’s awesome! Lemme see that.” Niall said, scuffing Zach’s hair before taking the phone to examine his progress.

With the game in Niall’s possession Zach’s attention is drawn to his father. “Papa you dink Daddy’s gonna be sad I beated his score?”

That surprises a little laugh out of Zayn who does his best to wipe the last of his tears from his cheek and offer his son a barely there smile.

“No, of course not sport Daddy will be happy to know you finally got the froggy to hop.” Zach blesses him with a grin that was more gums than teeth and makes grabby hands at Niall.

“Can I pleez pway some more unca Ni?”

“Course ya can.” Niall agrees, handing the phone over easily before turning to Zayn.

“What I don’t get was what he was even doing in that area, you say he was supposed to be headed to work at the club?”

“He uh—he was going for an audition.” All their heads snap around to stare at Louis as he enters the room, jacket hung over his arm and looking like he’d really rather not be the bearer of bad news a second time.

“What?”

Louis sighs, moving further into the room to plop down in the hard plastic chair directly across from Zayn. “He wasn’t going to tell you about it unless he actually got the job, didn’t want to upset you over nothing yeah, but he was thinking about going back on the road.”

“No he wasn’t; he wouldn’t do that.” Zayn doesn’t even hesitate; as if his mate was insane to even suggest such a thing. “He knows that the time for touring the country, being away from home for months on end has passed, he’s got a family now, he’s got Zach to think of...” Leaning over to cover his son’s ears he hisses, “It was _his_ idea to adopt when we did and it was _his_ idea to hang up his touring shoes not mine, he said he didn’t even miss it.”

Louis nods slowly.

“And for a while he probably didn’t but then Simon Cowell himself dropped by the club looking for him with an offer to play in the band of the newest it girl of music, Lilah, whose first tour is currently in the works and I guess that was enough to change his mind.”

“But that morning he said he was going to work, are you telling me he lied to me? I mean, we have our share of marital issues—little hiccups but dishonesty has never been one of them.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Zee, he was on his way to audition with the band for Cowell. He told me not to say anything but that was, well that was before.”

Was that how things were to go from now on? Speaking in terms of before and after the accident?

+++

-2017-

After a year Ed and Niall find a two-bedroom loft on the other side of town and move out, leaving Zayn and Harry to take over the three-bedroom flat, making it their own or _nesting,_ as Ed liked to joke.

Harry gets a real thrill out of decorating the flat, picking things up from yard sales and flea markets and even old hand-me-down knick-knacks from relatives.

The end result of course looked like an IKEA store threw up covering their flat in a little bit of every kind of style there is. But Harry still somehow managed to make it feel like home.

Or maybe it was more the fact that wherever Harry was had come to feel like home to Zayn.

“Zaynie, I’m home!” Harry bellowed in an atrocious attempt at a Ricky Ricardo impression. Setting the bags from his latest trip to the thrift shop down near the door as he ventured further into the flat in search of his boyfriend.

Moving into the living room he finds the couch lacking its usual Zayn-shaped lump and goes to walk back out again to check the bedroom when something catches his eye, making him frown.

A lone crumpled pack of cigarettes laying haphazard on the coffee table it’s garish gold and while foiled package glinting up at him tauntingly and it takes everything in him not to snatch it up and throw it into the garbage disposal.

On second thought.

He moves to do just that, hollering to Zayn wherever the hell he was as he did so: “Babe, I thought you were going to give quitting a fair shot this time around?” He’s pouting now without realizing it, and he can admit he’s disappointed but only because he knows Zayn is stronger than this, he was doing so well for over a month and hates the thought of the other man falling off the wagon and ruining all his hard work.

“You’ll never do it if you keep these bloody…” He snatches the pack up off the table and freezes.

There lying on the worn wooden table that’s survived all four years of Uni with Zayn, Ed and Niall where the pack of cigarettes once lain, was a shiny silver ring with three simple jewels all in a pretty neat line, a humble sized diamond with two amethysts, his birthstone, one on either side.

Harry tries to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat and focuses on breathing, with a shaky hand he reaches for the ring and slips it onto his left ring finger and of course it’s a perfect fit. Holding his hand out in front of him to admire the ring, Zayn clearing his throat startles him and when Harry turns he sees Zayn standing there, hand held out to take Harry’s own.

Clasping Harry’s still trembling hand in both his, Zayn takes a deep breath.

“Harry, I know we’ve only been dating for a little over a year and some would say that’s not long enough to know for sure if someone is the one—but those people aren’t us and even though we haven’t been dating very long, I am sure, more sure than I am about anything else in this world that you’re the one for me. I know you’re always saying that we were already whole beings before we met—that you don’t believe in that you complete me rubbish and that’s fine, but even you have to admit there was something missing before we came into each other’s lives. So while it’s true we’re already whole pies all on our own, maybe we could, I don’t know, be each other’s whipped cream?”

“I don’t put whipped cream on my pie…s’bad for you all that oil and—”

“Harry!” Zayn cried out exasperated.

“Alright, alright, I suppose you could be my glass of 1% milk.”

“I—I’ll take it.”  


“Wait, what’re you asking me here exactly, Malik?”

“Will you make me the happiest man on earth by letting me be your…glass of milk?”

Harry brought a hand up to his mouth to muffle a gasp. “Oh god, you’re such a dork, but you’re my dork and I love you, I love you so much, Zayn, of course I’ll marry you!” He shouted, launching himself at the other man to capture his mouth with his own. “I have to call…everyone!!! Who do I call first?”

“Louis, if you know what’s good for you.”

“What? Even before me mum?” The two share a look and without another word Harry’s dialing his mate’s number, grinning down at his ring while he waited for Louis to pick up.

+++

 

They’ve never been a very fussy couple, not really into huge extravagant gestures or affairs; it’s always been about the little things with them, appreciating a personal touch over a big tadoo.

So it makes sense that when they get married four short months later it’s not in some big romantic church or fancy reception hall—they don’t even hold it in that charming park around the way, but where it all began with them, the smoothie shop they’d come to frequent that the old man behind the counter Mr. Bandi, who’s come to know them by name, got ordained just so he could do the honors.

“I vow to help you love and appreciate life, to always hold you with tenderness and to have the patience that love demands. To speak when words are needed and to share the silence when they are not. To agree to disagree on kale smoothies. And to live within the warmth off your heart and always call it home.”

“Wow babe you uh, set the bar kinda high there.” Harry just shrugged, hoping his grin was enough encouragement.

“Did you write your vows on an Energy Jooz menu?”

“Yeah, why?” Zayn pulls his vows out from the back pocket of his jeans to reveal his own menu.

“Alright here goes.” Zayn starts, adjusting his tie. “I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love and to always know in the deepest parts of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, that we’ll always find the way back to each other.”

“Do you take each other as spouses?”

“I do.” Zayn breathes through a mega-watt smile.

Mr. Bandi turned to Harry who nodded vehemently. “I do, of course.”

“Then by the power vested in me, by the city of London, I now pronounce you husbands and best friends forever, you may now seal your vows with a kiss.”

+++

On the meager salaries of a struggling musician and freelance photographer whose money mostly went towards rent, groceries and tuition it’s safe to say they won’t be going off on a proper honeymoon to some exotic locale but Zayn was ok with that, none of that mattered because Harry had said yes and they were now Mister and Mister Zayn and Harry Malik and that’s all he really needed.

They can’t keep their hands off each other the entire ride home; their driver doing his best not to sneak glances at them in the rearview and failing. Zayn, not normally one for public displays, would’ve shoved Harry away and all but flung himself to the other side of the car, creating as much distance between them as possible, completely mortified, but newly married to the best looking man on the planet, he couldn’t really be bothered with modesty—if anything it made sense that others would want to watch them together, they were fucking hot.

It’s not much longer that the car pulls up to the curb of their flat and the two of them somehow manage to climb out without breaking their kiss, hip-checking the door closed, Zayn throws the driver a saucy wink, satisfied when the older gentleman drives off with a noticeable pink to his cheeks.

Walking up to the door is no easy task but they somehow manage and Zayn reluctantly breaks the kiss to look for his keys but luckily Harry, not one to be thwarted, averts his attention to nibbling at Zayn’s ear and whispering all the things he can’t wait to do to him once they’re inside.

He gets the door unlocked on the third try not thanks to his husband…god that had such a wonderful ring to it. He pushes the door open and grabs Harry back to him by his suit jacket when he tries entering the flat.

Harry starts to whine about wanting to be naked already when he catches sight of Zayn’s expression a mixture of mischief and serenity but before he can open his mouth to ask the older man what’s got him smiling so big Zayn scoops him up bridal style, laughing at the high pitched squeak Harry emits in surprise that quickly turns into a loving coo as Zayn makes a show of carrying him over the threshold.

Kicking the door shut, Zayn doesn’t put Harry down, instead continues on through the flat, headed straight for the bedroom to make good on some of those promises Harry had whispered moments ago only for Harry to tart wriggling in his grasp insisting Zayn let him down.

Zayn does reluctantly.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“Huh? Oh—oh nothing! I’ve just got a surprise for you…” He says face lighting up as he reaches to cover Zayn’s eyes with his hand. “You trust me right, baby?” Zayn does, he trusts Harry with his life, so while his first instinct is to cower away from Harry, not liking the idea of being so vulnerable, he nods putting his fate in the other man’s hands as he leads him through the flat until he hears the distinct sound of the sliding door and knows he’s being led to the back garden.

When Harry finally removes his hands Zayn can’t help but let out a soft gasp as he takes in the sight of their backyard turned makeshift oasis.

Fairy lights surround the entire perimeter with two lounge chairs set up beside a kiddie pool filled to the brim with water, and there’s sand—genuine sand that Zayn can’t even guess where Harry got from scattered around the pool and chairs. There’s also a laptop setup on an upside down crate open to a YouTube where a ten hours of ocean sounds video is currently playing.

“Hazza, what is thi—”

“I know we can’t go away on that honeymoon in Brazil like we dreamed but I figured we could still have a romantic wedding night at the beach and at least this way we won’t have to worry about getting sand in our cracks when we…”

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Well yeah—isn’t that why you married me?”

“That’s exactly why because you’re so considerate of my arse crack.”

+++

 

Zayn growls as he tosses yet another folder filled with photos to the side. He’s panicking because his Uni graduation is on the horizon and he can’t for the life of him decide what photo to use for his senior thesis. He’s been going through the portfolio of his best work for days now and still hasn’t found the perfect shot and he’s growing frustrated. He’s just about to resort to tearing his hair out at the root when Harry finds him bearing a turkey sandwich.

“Lunch break?” Zayn looks up from where he’s staring at a photo of a mother kissing her toddler’s nose that he shot while strolling through a park one afternoon and willing it to turn into something different, something that will stand out, just something… _more_.

He’s not hungry but when he sees Harry’s hopeful smile he can’t help but shake off his irritation to offer his husband a small shrug. “What have you got there?”

“Turkey and Swiss on rye…I even cut the crusts off, just how you like.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Eh, I happen to think I’m the perfect amount of good.”

Zayn snorts. “And modest too.”

“So what’s got you tugging at that glorious hair of yours, then? You know that’s my job.”  Harry teases with an eyebrow wiggle, coming up to Zayn’s side to set his sandwich down and run his fingers through his soft tresses. Zayn chuckles, shaking his head.

“It’s nothing, just can’t seem to find the right photo to use as my bloody thesis.”

“You’re literally surrounded by beautiful photographs you’ve taken over the years and you can’t find one that is good enough?” Reaching for a photo off the top of a nearby pile, Harry turns it this way and that. “What about this one?”

“What _about_ that one?”

“I dunno, I’m no professional but I like it, it’s interesting, eye catching.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, it’s abstract, ain’t it? One of those ones that really makes you think and can be interpreted several ways right?”

“Um…”

Harry continues to exam the photo. “You were obviously experimenting with light too, I see.”

Zayn hums, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as Harry continued to squint at the photo, giving it an honest critique even though it was clear he had no idea what he was talking about. “I think this is the one, it’s powerful and has a message and I think you should use it.” The words are barely out his mouth when Zayn moves forward and kisses him quiet; when he pulls back he’s practically beaming.

“Not that I’m complaining but what was that for?”

“You totally love me, don’t you?”

“You know I do.”

“Yeah I do because that is not some profound abstract image with a powerful message I’m afraid, but a picture of my hand I took by accident while trying to zoom my lens in.”

“Oh.” Harry whispers, feeling his entire body go red from embarrassment but Zayn will have none of that, tugging him forward once more for a quick peck him on the lips.

“Which I’m totally going to frame now and hang it in the bedroom.”

Harry ducks his head, trying to hide his face in Zayn’s shoulder. “Please don’t, god you must think I’m such an idiot.”

“I know you’re an idiot—I happen to love that about you, but you analyzing a photo of my hand, darling that only makes me love you more. Now I think this mess can wait until tomorrow there are more important things I could be doing with my time.”

“Like what?”

“You.” He purrs, sneaking a hand up to tickle the back of Harry’s neck just under his mane of curls one of Harry’s many androgynous zones, and a surefire way to put the taller man in the mood.

Just as expected Harry’s hips jerk forward of their own accord and before Zayn can blink dark eyes are trained on him, Harry’s pupils so dilated there’s barely any green left to them, without a word he takes off for the bedroom, dragging a giggling Zayn behind him.

+++

 

-2016-

They’ve been dating just over a year when Zayn first finds out about Harry’s rather unorthodox turn on.

He’s seen Harry perform with his band Peachy Keen a couple of times already by this point, either sat front row or stood backstage and while Harry could make the most average and mundane task, such as doing the dishes or rearranging Zayn’s CDs when he thinks the older man isn’t looking seem sexy, watching Harry upstage in his element is a sight to behold. He’s so confident and uninhibited the way he flirted with the crowd and somehow made a room full of thousands feel like they’ve got his undivided attention, it’s a gift and never failed to give Zayn this pleasant tingle knowing that he was the one who actually _had_ Harry.

But getting to that point was no easy task, the hour or so leading up to show time were a bit of a rollercoaster of nerves and self doubt, as Harry paced the band’s dressing room, muttering to himself the most destructive things under his breath. Zayn hated seeing him like this and would often make it his personal mission to take Harry out of his own head, distract him from his toxic thoughts until it was time for him to take the stage.

So when Harry stands from the couch a couple minutes to show time, already wringing his hands together Zayn knows he’s about to start pacing a hole into the floor and thinks fast standing as well so that Harry has no choice but to run into him, their chest colliding.

“Zayn, what?” Harry asks, looking genuinely confused, as though he honestly hadn’t noticed Zayn standing there, too absorbed in thoughts.

Zayn shrugs, grinning. “You’ve still got a couple minutes until you’re due on stage and I thought you could spend it with instead of getting lost in that head of yours.”

“Um, I don’t know babe, I’ve got this pre-show ritual I do…”

“Yeah I know all about your ritual, most Rock stars meditate, have a cuppa or have a wank. Why can’t you be more like them?” He jokes, taking advantage of Harry’s momentary confusion to slip his arms up his back to cup the back of his neck, tickling the baby hairs he finds there and raising an interested eyebrow at the way Harry’s hips roll forward at the touch and does it again and gets the same results, plus a quiet little moan and grins mischievously.

“Is this turning you on?”

“Um sort of? I know it’s weird but…” He cuts himself off to gasp as Zayn tickles him a third time.

“Not weird, just different…I like it, though—I like you.”

“Mm, god! I like you too! Babe, not that I’m not grateful for you trying to…mm…but like I don’t think we have time for…nngh!”

“Are you questioning my blowjob skills?” Harry gulps and shakes his head

“Didn’t think so, reckon I’ve got just enough time to make you cum your brains out so you won’t be able to think let alone panic yeah?”

+++

-2022-

The first thing Harry notices is the pain, everything hurts but his head especially is pounding and his right arm itches but when he tries to lift his other arm to scratch it he finds it to be a bit of a challenge due to the tubes embedded there.

His eyes snap open and he has to squint as they adjust to the room’s bright light, when they finally do he looks around and realizes he’s in a hospital bed hooked up to several machines, including a heart monitor that is now beeping somewhat erratically to match his pulse as he feels a panic start to build in his chest.

How did he get here, _why_ is he here and for the love of god, what is that scritch-scratching noise he hears, it’s as though there’s a small rodent in his brain trying its best to burrow its way out.

Without meaning to he lets out a long agonized groan and startles when a small voice cries out. “You’re awake!” Harry follows the voice to a little boy sprawled out on is belly atop a blanket on the floor surrounded by crayons and markers with what looks like a coloring book in front of him.

He’s grinning up at Harry with one of his front teeth missing looking like Harry being awake is the best thing to ever happen to him which doesn’t make sense because Harry’s never see this child a day in his life.

“Erm, yes I am but who—”

“Papa tol me ta stay quiet an to cullah in mah book an dat’s what I did.” He tells Harry proudly and makes like he’s about to get up off the floor and Harry hears his monitor pick up again to match his anxiety in anticipation of this strange child approaching him.

“That’s really good of you but…” Harry starts to say but is cut off by the opening of the door and watches as a very attractive bloke walks in wielding two juice boxes.

“Alright little man, they didn’t have any apple juice so I got you grape inst—” His voice trails off as he notices Harry sat there staring back at him with an identical look of surprise.

“Hello?” Harry cautions.

“H-Harry?” The man stammers, his jaw lying somewhere on the floor.

“Yes, I’m Harry.” He confirms almost robotically, that seems to snap the other man into motion as he glances around the room looking for something.

“Oh god, you’re awake let me—fuck—I mean fudge, I’m just gonna, I’m just going to go get...” He dashes out of the room without even finishing his sentence, juice still clutched in his fists.

Harry stares after him for a moment before reaching up to fix his hair in case he returns and winces at the bandages he finds there, figuring he has to look a right mess, which doesn’t surprise him, that’s just his luck that he’d meet the most attractive man he’s ever seen while all scuffed up and laid up in hospital.

The attractive man returns shortly with a nurse in toe who fiddles with a few things, checks Harry’s vitals and refers to his chart quite often before returning to the handsome stranger’s side where she proceeds to whisper something to him that makes the gorgeous man frown.

It’s the frown that worries Harry who has stayed silent up until now.

“Doctor, how serious is all this?” He asks, gesturing to his head and the various scratches on his arms.

“Excuse me?” The nurse asks, looking up from his chart mid page flip.

Harry shakes his head. “I was just asking the doctor if this was something serious or did I just bang my head on the cupboard door again? I do that quite a bit, you see; I keep reminding Lou to shut it when he’s finish but he never listens.”

“Lou? Do you mean Louis? Wait, Harry, are you talking about when you shared a flat with Louis?”

“What do you mean when? I still do Doctor… I’m sorry I must’ve forgotten your name?” Zayn and the nurse share a look.

“Uh Harry you know who I am right?” Harry smiles sweetly.

“Of course, you’re my doctor.” Zayn can’t speak, feeling all the air in his lungs evaporate but it’s Zach who laughs.

“No silly, he’s Papa and yer Daddy, don’t you remember, Daddy?”

“What?” Harry asks, looking terrified and utterly confused so Zayn gulps and turns to his son.

“Zach, not now baby, Daddy’s been through a lot, remember what I told you?” The little boy nods, face falling at Harry’s reaction, only spurring the nurse to take a step towards him.

“My name, it’s—it’s Zayn and I’m not your doctor…I’m your husband.”

“I can take him to the mess and let him pick something out of the dessert window.” She offers, gesturing to the now sulking toddler at the same time Harry’s breathing becomes labored as he stared wide-eyed at the wedding band on his left ring finger.

“If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” She assures him and Zayn suspects she’s just grateful for the excuse to escape the situation, Zayn knows the feeling and wishes she’d take him as well. “I’ll send the doctor in after me.”

“Thank you.”

+++

 

Zayn watches Harry’s face contort with various emotions as Doctor Spencer fills him in on all that’s happened, gently tell him of his car accident, about his medically induced coma and asks him how he’s feeling and if he’s got any questions.

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“Fortunately no, though there were a few heads of lettuce that didn’t make it I’m afraid.” Zayn blurts and to his shock that earns him a light chuckle from Harry at his lame attempt at a joke.

“So Mr. Malik…”

“Styles.” Harry quickly corrects making Zayn wince. The doctor shoots him an apologetic look.

“Right pardon me, Mr. Styles I hear you’re having a bit of memory loss, can you tell me the last thing you remember and then we’ll go through a few basic questions, nothing too difficult, as we wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I don’t feel like there’s anything missing but alright, doctor.”

“Thank you, now what’s the last thing you remember?”

“I remember playing at the Empire.” Zayn perks up because if Harry remembered his job at the club then maybe him and Zach weren’t too far behind. “I remember being chuffed because you’re nobody until you’ve played the Empire and Grimmy swore we’d never get there but we did—showed him!”

“So you remember playing at the Empire with your band?” Harry nodded.

“Peachy Keen, yes. You’ve probably never heard of us, haven’t even got a proper album out yet but we will soon enough, been doing a lot of late night writing with Dan.”

“What about your friend Louis?”

“He’s getting real serious with Liam, he likes to play it cool, denying he’s in love but he’s not fooling anyone least of all me…I won’t be surprised if one of them pops the question any day now.” At the mention of his mate’s impending engagement Harry glances down at his own ring and frowns, begins toying with it as if itching to pull it off.

“Ok now I’m going to ask you those questions I mentioned alright?” Harry nods.

“What year is it?” Harry gives him a funny look.

“2013.“ He says, rolling his eyes as if to say duh.

“And that would make you how old?”

“Nineteen, doesn’t it already say all this on my chart?”

“Sure it does, I just want to get you talking, yeah?”

“Fine.”

“So it’s the year 2013 and you’re nineteen years old, you still live with your best mate Louis and you’re currently in a band called Peachy Keen, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not married to this man; with whom you have a son, then?”

Turning to Zayn he bites his lip. “No offense mate, but I’ve never seen you or your son not once before today…I’m not nor have I ever been married, what is this then?” He says, waving the hand with the ring around and smiling as if he’s finally understood the punch line to a joke. “Some kind of prank? Is my boyfriend Nick having me on? Where is he?”

Zayn deflates noticeably and Doctor Spencer reaches out to give his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. Sneaking a peek at Harry, Zayn finds him pouting to himself at having upset Zayn—this doesn’t spark any kind of hope in Zayn however, because he knew that was just the type of person Harry was, whether he knew Zayn or not.

Turning back to Harry, Dr. Spencer shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry your Nick isn’t here but perhaps we can call him for you?” The younger man lights up and it’s about all Zayn can stand, slipping out the room with a soft ‘excuse me’.”

Dr. Spencer follows out after him seconds later and finds him leaning against a wall for support but the minute he sees the other man he’s darting forward, scowling and pointing an accusing finger at him.

“You said his scans were good, the last time you looked at them, right before bringing him out of the coma, you—you promised!”

“You know I did no such thing Zayn.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, Mr. Malik, I’d never make a promise that that because a brain injury isn’t like a broken bone or laceration, the brain is a much less predictable organ.” Zayn wishes he could cover his ears and refuse to hear this.

“Sometimes due to the way the swelling tissue presses against the skull it can cause some impairment.”

Zayn scoffs. “Impairment? My husband doesn’t remember me!”

“Mr. Malik, please.” Dr. Spencer begs, looking just as reluctant to continue as Zayn feels. “Now even though he’s awake, the swelling can still be causing him some confusion, memory loss, or even the occasional mood swing.”

“Oh god.”

“But all of that is completely normal, I’m afraid there’s no overnight cure for your husband’s injuries, the best medicine right now is time.” He offers Zayn another shoulder squeeze and walks off, presumably to tend to another patient.

Zayn watches him go, wondering what he’s meant to do now. He can’t leave the hospital that’s not an option but he knows he isn’t exactly welcome in Harry’s room because to him he’s nothing more than a stranger.

Digging his mobile out of his jeans’ pocket he pulls up his and Louis' most recent conversation and taps out three simple words _I need you_ before hitting send.

+++

  
Liam and Louis come barging through the hospital doors not twenty minutes later looking frazzled. Louis still in his pajamas and it looks as though Liam’s got his shirt on inside out but Zayn doesn’t care, just opens his arms still in the same position on the floor beside the vending machines giving a fuck off vibe to anyone who dared even look his way, let alone thought about coming over to purchase a snack or drink.

Louis immediately falls into him but it’s Liam who looks around in alarm.

“Zayn, where’s Zach?” He asks, voice filled with worry as squats down in front of the sniffling pair. “Zee, this is important, where is your son?”

“In the mess with a very nice nurse.” Zayn manages to choke out before burying his nose in Louis' neck once more. Liam nods for his own benefit and straightens up.

“I’ll go fetch him then.”

With Liam gone, Louis manages to pry Zayn’s face from his collar, holding him out in front of him. They both look a sight with red-rimmed eyes and noses from crying. “What’s wrong Zayn, has something new happened…is it Hazza?” Zayn nods.

“He’s awake.”

“What? But Zayn that’s great news, fuck I have to go see him, why didn’t you call us sooner...” He starts to stand but Zayn pulls him back down by his sleeve.

“He’s awake but he doesn’t remember me, or Zach… or god, anything from the last nine years!”

“What are you on about, Zayn?”

“I don’t know! Dr. Spencer says he’s got amnesia caused by all the swelling in his brain, says it should be temporary but I don’t see how it can be, how do nine years of someone’s life just disappear?”

“Oh god, does he remember anything at all?” Zayn nods.

“He knows who he is and stuff, if that’s what you’re asking, he remembers everything before 2013.” He doesn’t voice the _everything before me_ on the tip of his tongue but telling from Louis' trembling bottom lip he hears it anyway.

“So he remembers me then?”

Zayn has to fight not to glower at the other man, it’s not like he’s gloating—just curious. “Yeah, even brought you up earlier, something about how he used to always whack himself with the cupboard door because you refused to close it.”

“That’s a lie! I never refused, I just forgot…every single time.”

Zayn shook his head managing a small smile despite himself. “You can go in and see him, Liam too when he gets back. I reckon he’ll be glad to see a familiar face.”

“Oh Zee…” Louis trails off, resting both hands on Zayn’s shoulders and looking like someone has just told him he was rubbish at football.

Zayn could only shrug. “Nothing we can do now but wait, wait for my Hazza to come back to me. You should go in alone first so he doesn’t feel ambushed or summat, I’ll send Liam to you in a mo.” Louis nods as though that were the most brilliant idea anyone has ever had and with a final hug and a dry kiss to Zayn’s forehead, Louis sets off in the direction of Harry’s room.

+++

 

Harry’s staring blankly at the wall trying to make sense of the last half hour, being told he’d been in a serious car wreck, waking up to find a random child in his room and of course the fit stranger—Zayn claiming to be his husband—what was that about?

He’s runs his thumb over the ring once more, lost in thought and jumps when there’s a sudden knock at the door followed by Louis' head poking through the tiny crack.

“Louis!” Harry all but cries out, his first genuine smile and he’s nearly in tears by the time his best ate makes his way to his bedside to pull hi into a hug, mindful of his iv and other tubes he was still attached to. “God it’s good to see someone I actually know.”

“I heard you took a nasty bump to the head and knocked a couple of memories out.” He tries to joke but his voice is still too choked up for the desired effect.

“Everyone keeps saying that but my memories fine!” Harry insists, patting the bed beside him for Louis to sit.

“Oh yeah? The way I hear it you’re missing quite a bit, actually.” Louis counters, coming over to perch on the edge of the bed.

“Like what?”

“Well for starters, what year do you reckon it is?”

“Oh no not this again, the doc already took me through all that shite so you can just save it, Lou.”

“Please Haz, just humor me, yeah?”

“Fine, it’s 2013…what did they suddenly stop delivering the paper while I was in a coma?” He jokes but Louis doesn’t have it in him to laugh, too busy staring at the other man with wide eyes.

“No that’s not it babe, you’re just off by about nine years.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“It’s 2022, Haz, you’re twenty-eight, I’m nearly thirty and that insanely good looking lad who was in here earlier spouting shite about the two of you being married with a kid?” Louis waits for Harry’s nod. “Well, he’s not as crazy as he came off in fact, everything he told you is true.” Louis sees it, the moment everything starts to really click for Harry and forces himself to trudge on.

“You don’t feel like anything is missing because you can’t remember anything passed 2013, so of course there’s nothing missing but in actuality there’s nine years of your life that’s just up and left your head mate.” Louis finishes with a wave of his hand.

Harry catches sight of Louis’ wedding band and sucks in a breath, “Is that a—are you married?”

Confused Louis stares down at his own hand as if forgetting what he’d find there. “Oh right yeah, have been for seven years now, you were my best man!”

“I was? But I don’t—I can’t remember.”

“Exactly, that’s what everyone’s been trying to tell you.”

“What else have I missed then?”

“Well you didn’t actually miss any of it, you were there.” Louis chuckles. “You just can’t access those memories at the mo but the doc says they’ll return gradually. It’s this whole,” he waves his hands around, “process.”

“Well, tell me everything anyway how is my family—is Gem married? Am I an uncle?” Louis makes a pained face, chewing at his lip.

“Um, they’re good last I heard, gone on a second honeymoon to Egypt to see the pyramids and Gemma, she was married but it didn’t last very long after she lost the baby.”

Harry’s smile drops from his face, his features crumbling into a look of anguish. “What? No! Oh god I have to call her!”  He moves as if to get up to try and find a phone but Louis grabs his arm to still him.

“Hey, no it’s fine, well it’s not—it’ll never be _fine_ but she’s in a good place now it’s been a couple of years and she recently confided to you that she’d never really loved Mark anyway, they were only trying to make it work for the baby. As for baby Beau, well, he’s got a plot she visits regularly, so maybe you can go up with her sometime to meet him.”

“I’d like that.” He chokes out.

Louis rubs his arm comfortingly. “Know you would.”

They sit in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room coming from the machines Harry is connected to and the curly lad’s quiet sniffles.

“What about the band? Did we make it to America?” He voices, catching Lou off guard.

“Erm…” He stalls, trying to think of a nice way to tell his mate the truth.

“Lou-is!”

“I don’t know how much I should let you in on, don’t they always say it’s unwise to tell too much to a person with amnesia because it fucks with fate and whatnot, at least that’s what they say in films.”

“I think you’re confusing amnesia with time travel and besides this isn’t a film, so spill.” Harry said through gritted teeth, pinching one of Louis' nipples threateningly.

“Oi you fight dirty, Styles; know how sensitive me nips are!” Harry starts to twist. “Alright, alright, the band is no more, you broke up just after New Year’s 2016.”

“No! That’s crazy talk, we were going to be the next big thing—Rolling Stones level, what happened?”

Louis slapped Harry’s hand away from his chest. “It was a combination of things, to be honest.”

Harry made a thoughtful noise. “What about me and Nick, what happened there?”

“One of the main reasons Peachy Keen disband, you never gave me the whole story but I just know the two of you wanted different things so you broke up and tried being friends for the sake of the band, but the two of you just couldn’t seem to make it work and soon it became too much. Nick left first and the rest of you kept at it for a bit afterward; mostly doing tiny local gigs but the band dynamic was all but shattered. You and Nick had been broken up for about six months when you met Zayn, at my wedding of all places.”

Louis pauses to grin at the memory of his love struck mate going on about this mysterious beauty he’d met at the wedding.

“You were mad for him from the moment you laid eyes on him, not that I blame you, he’s rather pretty, he was quite gone for you as well, and well the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Uh-uh, you can’t just drop that kind of bomb on me and not give me details.” He reasoned but Louis just shook his head.

“Come on Haz, you don’t want me to give you the cliff notes version, do you? That’ll ruin the story for ya.”

Harry blew out a huge breath, crossing his arms over his chest in irritation. “But I can’t remember any of it on me own.”

“You will though, it’ll come back to you, but in the mean time I say you at least give him a chance, get to know him. He’s pretty amazing and that kid of yours is seriously the best pint sized human being to ever exist. He’s honestly my favorite.”

The taller man pouts. “I thought I was your favorite?”

Louis gives his knee a reassuring pat. “You were but then you got old, and you know my thing about growing up.”

“You’re never gonna?”

“Exactly. Traded you in for the younger model and now Zach’s my little partner in crime.”

“This is so weird to think about me not being with Nick and _married_ to someone with a kid, it’s like I woke up with a premade starter family…I’m basically a Sim.” He panics, throwing his hands up making his friend chuckle.

“It’s not that bad, I mean you fell in love with him once, right?”

“I guess…”

“Just think about it, yeah?” Harry promises to try and Louis believes him. Figuring they’ve had enough heavy talk for one day, Louis settles more comfortably on the bed, swinging his leg up and sitting back against the pillows. “There is one thing you deffo missed in the last nine years, they finally finished How I Met Your Mother—we actually meet Ted’s wife and mate, are you going to be pissed when you see how the writer’s end the series, just wait!”

They spend the next few minutes talking about all the television shows and movies that Louis insists that Harry watch until Liam’s at the door cautiously entering and much like with Louis, a sort of relief finds its way onto Harry’s face at the sight of someone he actually recognized. They hug and catch up a bit before Louis and Liam notice Harry’s eyelids fluttering in an attempt to stay open and figure the younger man’s had enough excitement for one day and leave him to get some rest with a promise to return the next day.

Once in the waiting room, Louis tells Zayn all about his conversation with Harry, how confused he still was about everything but assures him that he talked Zayn up, made sure Harry knew he was a good man worth of getting to know. Zayn who had gone numb pretty much since the moment Harry confirmed that in his mind the past seven years had never happened that _they_ had ever happened. He felt the fog that had gathered over him start to dissipate at the sliver of hope Louis' words gave him.

+++

He refuses to leave the hospital because Harry wouldn’t want him to, even if right now he doesn’t know it, _Zayn_ knows it and that’s enough to convince him to ask Louis and Liam to drop Zach off at Niall’s knowing it wouldn’t be fair to make his son spend the night in the hospital just because his father is a stubborn sap, and since the blonde is the only one of them who works from home and thus won’t be inconvenienced by a toddler’s sudden presence, it just made sense.

After days of sleepless nights and staying on alert, his exhaustion finally gets the best of him and Zayn ends up spreading out across three chairs and passing out.

The last thing he expects is to be poked awake by a hesitant Harry; arm that he’s not using to poke at Zayn’s shoulder wrapped tightly around his middle.  At first the older man groans, batting at the air around him in annoyance, but after a beat he’s sitting up in alarm looking a bit crazed as his eyes dart around the room before landing on Harry stood there curled in on himself.

“What—what’s wrong, babe?” Zayn watches the other man flinch at the term of endearment that has become almost a reflex for Zayn.

“Was getting a bit antsy holed up in my room and the nurse said I could get up and wander if I like but everyone I know is gone—except you—I saw that you were still here and figured we could talk?”

“Uh yeah—yes of course we can, um…”

“Maybe over food? I’m sort of hungry.”

“I got you covered!” He says with a wink.

Zayn takes him down to the cafeteria where he buys himself a chicken sandwich for himself and a tuna melt for Harry. Taking a bite out of one half of his sandwich Zayn watches Harry set it back down on his plate while he chewed, forgetting that he was meant to be eating his own sandwich too enrapt in Harry.

Bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as he talked, Zayn couldn’t help but smile because that was so Harry, to not able to wait until he’d finished chewing his food before speaking. “So we’re married and I have weird hair?” He says and Zayn just fights off a surprised laugh because the other man wasn’t pulling any punches, getting right down to it.

“I think your hair is lovely at that length and yes, we’re married, have been for four years now.”

“That is so weird; I don’t have a clue who you are.” It’s Zayn’s turn to flinch. “Sorry, I know—I know you know me—obviously but in my mind I’m still dating Nick…Grimshaw do you know him?”

Zayn nods. “I know him, he’s still—you’re still mates. As for your hair, you grew it out because of our neighbors’ kid Lux, she’s basically your best friend and the two of you love to play princess but you could never manage a proper bun for your crown to go around, so you quit cutting it and just let it grow out…really gives you that 80’s metal look when you’re up on stage.”

“On stage? But Lou said the band broke up.”

“You did, you sort of gave up the life of a rock star once we decided to adopt but you never gave up on music, the Azoff’s took you in and made you the lead guitarist of the Empire’s house band. It pays well and you still get to play and perform on night’s the club isn’t booked up…” He shrugs. “You never had any complaints.”

“I can’t believe I did that, gave up the road—my dream of being famous.”

“It was your idea. I never once asked you to, I knew what I was getting into when I married a musician.” Zayn admitted with a smirk. “But from the moment you held Zach you knew you couldn’t bear to be away from him for that long, couldn’t risk missing all the important stuff, his firsts and whatnot.”

“Zach.” Harry whispers and Zayn nods.

“Our son.”

“Right, um.” Harry begins fidgeting in his seat, toying with his sandwich rather than eating it and Zayn can tell he’s uncomfortable with the topic and decided to put him out of his misery.

“You’ve met Robbie Williams…” He blurts, just to see Harry’s face brighten once more and just like that he’s smiling, demanding Zayn tell him all about it.

+++

"I think you ought ta look at this as a win."

"Traumatic brain injury is a win?" Zayn asked incredulously and Ed flicked the blonde in the forehead on his friend's behalf.

"Hey!” Niall whined, rubbing at the sore spot. “Just hear me out, Haz is good and healthy and that's great, but he's missing a few memories."

"Try _years,_ he's forgotten full years, Niall, nine of them." Zayn feels the need to point out.

"And I agree that sucks in general but for you this could be a good thing."

"How so?" Zayn asks at the same time Louis mutters. "I can't wait to hear this."

"If he doesn't remember who you are, then he doesn't remember all the stupid shit you ever did. You can start over, wipe the slate clean."

Zayn rolls his eyes. "But I don't want to start over, I just want my husband back."

"Sod the rest of you, I’m worried."

"Why's that, Ed?"

The ginger shrugs. "I'm worried that if he can't remember you how the hell is he supposed to remember that he's _in love_ with you? Because frankly I was stunned he went for you the first time." He finishes his serious expression melting into a laugh.

Zayn shook his head. "Wow cheers mate, so glad I’ve you lot for a support system." But after a few seconds he was laughing right along with them.

The first chance he gets Zayn sneaks out into the backyard for some fresh air, plopping down in one of the two lounge chairs a moment later he hears the sliding door open as someone step outside to join him and looks up to find Louis holding a jumper.

"Hey."

"Hi." Louis hands him the jumper on his way over to the second lounger.

"What're you doing out here being all anti-social?"

"Nothing. Thinking...what if Ed’s right and his memories never come back? Then what?" Louis is quiet, as he thinks up the best response and settles on.

"Did I ever tell you that Liam originally wanted to do a photo booth for the wedding?"

"He did? Why?"

Louis shrugged. "He wanted to forgo traditional wedding photos, said a booth would be funner."

"More fun." Zayn corrects under his breath.

"What?" Zayn shakes his head.

"Never mind, why are you telling me this now?"

"Just sayin', imagine if I'd let Liam win that argument and we never hired you to shoot our wedding? You and Haz never would have met."

"Louis, don't."

"Don't you see, Zayn? You two were fated to meet. He's going to get his memory back; he'll come back to you.

Zayn snorted, bringing the last of his beer to his lips. "Doubtful, he's too busy falling back in love with Grimmy." He spat the name out like venom.

"You can't really believe that—Nick was once everything to Harry, its true, but that was nothing but infatuation, mere puppy love. He was young and had this cool hip--his words not mine--older lad showing interest and he was drawn to him like a moth to a flame but that's all it was, what you two have is bigger than that--is real. You chose each other."

Zayn stares down at his empty beer bottle, picking at the label with his thumb and prays that Louis is right.

+++

 

The next morning Zayn packs up a bag of comforts from home for Harry, leaving Zach with his mum who had caught a train into the city for the weekend to help Zayn around the house and with her grandson despite Zayn's protests, insisting that he was handling it all just fine on his own but his mum had seen right through his lies and showed up anyway.

Leaving him with more time to kill at the hospital, even if a majority of the time was spent hiding in the waiting room while Louis visited Harry before reporting back to Zayn about all they had talked about.

"He really liked the bananas and his nan's quilt." Pulling the framed photo of Harry and Zach from Zach’s first Christmas from behind his back and handed it to him. "This made him a bit teary-eyed. Don't think he's ready to accept that bit just yet."

"No I know--I knew that but I just thought, with it being his favorite photo of the two of them...but yeah I’ll just take it back home with me then."

"Hey, it's a process remember?"

"Yep." Zayn clips, looking anything but reassured.

He’s just about to hug Louis goodbye, knowing the other man’s got to head into work soon when someone calls out him. "Zayn, good I caught you before you left."

Zayn turns to see Harry's doctor headed their way and bites his lip not to tell him that he had no intentions of leaving. Instead he gives the man a little wave. "Dr. Spencer is there something wrong?"

"Oh no nothing like that, it's actually the opposite Harry's making a speedy recovery, in fact we're looking at releasing him as soon as tomorrow afternoon?"

"That soon?"

"Well aside from the memory loss and a few superficial scrapes, he's practically good as new, it wouldn't really make much sense to keep him any longer."

"Well that's great news, he's definitely starting to get cabin fever." Louis jokes, tearing he doctor’s attention off Zayn.

"I bet, so great I guess we can go tell him the good news together then."

"Even me?" Zayn asks his voice filled with hope.

"Unless he's got another husband you know of." The doctor joked with a playful wink.

"No it's just Zayner here." Louis says patting Zayn's shoulder for emphasis. ''Four years and going strong." He adds in an overly sweet voice, raising his eyebrow in challenge.

Dr. Spencer doesn’t take the bait, matching Louis’ tone. "That's nice, shall we?"

Harry was already grinning when they enter the room though he looks a bit confused by Zayn's presence for a moment before he's gifting him with a small smile as well.

"Just got off the phone with Gem." He tells them, waving the mobile Louis had brought him earlier. "I know it's probably just me being silly but I swear she _sounds_ nine years older."

"You're an idiot, Harold."

Turning to the doctor Harry asks, "So what's up, doc?" in his best Bugs Bunny impression, which admittedly isn’t all that good.

"Everything is going great, you're just about all healed up aside from the memory loss but with your long term memory still intact, I’m very optimistic that the rest of your memory is going to improve with time. So having said that, it looks like we might be able to release you as soon as noon tomorrow."

"Are you serious that is awesome, no offense I mean everyone has been so nice and all, but I’m ready to get out of here."

"I'm sure."

"Right, so what's the next step then?" Zayn asks, keeping them on track.

"Well, the sooner he settles back into his life, his normal routine, the better and starting in a week or so I’m going to recommend that Harry see a neuropsychologist."

"Of course, whatever he needs." Harry makes a weird look at that, wondering what Zayn had to do with it.

"Great, now the only thing left to cover is the matter of whose care do we sign you out under?"

"Sorry?" He asks, looking away from Zayn to meet the doctor’s gaze.

"Where will you be going once you leave here; we'd like to know that you won't be alone at least for the first week home."

"Oh well naturally I’d go home with Lou to our flat..." Louis makes a surprised noise. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That noise...do you not want me to come home with you?"

"It's not that, Haz, you're my best mate, of course I’d love for you to come home with me, it's just I’m married, remember."

"Yeah so? Me and Liam get along great!"

"I know that but our flat--someone else lives there, we moved out ages after me and Liam found our own house just outside the city, so I don't want you to come home with me thinking everything is going to be the same. I'd have to fix up the guest room for you but I guess..."

"No." Everyone turns to Zayn. "I'm sorry Harry but you just heard the doctor, he said the best thing for you would be to return to your normal routine, return to your life and that's at home with me and Zach."

"But I don't _know_ you, I know what Louis and Liam have told me about you and the few conversations we've shared in the cafeteria have been pleasant but that's not enough to convince me to just get in a car and go live at your place!"

" _Our_ place." Zayn corrects but Harry continues as if he hadn’t heard him.

"Without any proof of us ever being in love?"

"Other than our marriage?"

Harry shrugs. "People get married for all kinds of different reasons that have nothing to do with love."

+++

 

"Zayn, what are you doing?" Trisha asks, as yet another article of clothing goes frying across the room.

"Proof.” Zayn mutters from the storage bin he’s sifting through. “I need to find..."

"Alright love, come sit with me before you wake your son up with all that racket."

With a heavy sigh, Zayn abandon’s his search in favor of sitting beside his mother on the bed to rest his head on her shoulder. "Oh Mum, I don't know what I’ll do if he doesn't agree to come home with me."

"There there my sunshine, you knew this wasn't going to be easy and if he decides to go home with Louis then so what, you think that's going to stop you? You think you and Zach can't pop in for a visit--be there for him, remind him of what he's lost."

"I know but it would just be so much easier if he was here amongst all his things, if he could see what our life together looks like—it might I don't know trigger something in his brain?"

"I know sweetheart but you can't force him into something he's not ready for, he'll get there. Give him time and he'll get there."

+++

 

Harry walks out of the bathroom fully dressed and pulling at the crotch of his pants, walking as though he's forgotten how legs worked or something. "Christ, these jeans are tight, can barely breathe and it took an age trying to figure out what to do with me cock." There's a soft gasp from the corner of the room and Harry glances over to find a young nurse who blushes and looks away when their eyes meet.      

"Pardon my French miss." She waves him off and quietly slips from the room. "And what is with this top Hawaiian print? Really? Looks like something my drunk uncle would wear, where on earth did you find this kit anyway, the lost and found?"

"It's yours believe it or not, your _own_ drunk uncle clothes."

"Bloody hell, why didn't you stop me?"

Louis snorts. "We've tried, loud tops and ridiculously tight jeans are sort of your weakness."

"You're a liar."

"Just wait until you getta look at the rest of your wardrobe."

Giving his shirt another dubious look, the hula hooping pineapples printed on it, Harry made a face. "Do I not own a comfy jumper or even a pair of baggy joggers?"

"The word ‘baggy' isn't exactly in your repertoire these days." Grabbing the duffle bag up off the bed Louis gives the room a final scan and asks, "Is this it?"

Harry nods. "All I currently have to my name."

"Right well, I guess we'll be off then." They make their way to the door, Louis's hand outstretched for the knob when it’s suddenly swung open narrowly missing whacking him in the nose.

It's Zayn and he's holding his mobile out in front of him like it's the most precious thing in the world halting in front of a startled Harry. He takes a moment to catch his breath having run all the way from the parking lot.

"You said you wanted proof."

"Uh, yeah I did..."

"Well I have an old video message you sent me on my last birthday. I had to go out of town for a job the weekend of my birthday and was on the train back home on the actual day and was feeling down about it so you sent me this to make me smile...it's not much but it's something."

"Yes but..." Harry starts to protest but he’s cut off by Louis impatiently stomping his foot.

"Would you just watch it? You wanted proof and he found proof, the least you can do is look at it."

"Yeah alright." He relents and Zayn starts the video.

Immediately the screen in filled with Harry and Zach’s faces. “ _Haaaaaaaappy Bertday papa!!! Me an daddy made cake an I love youuuu!!!!”_ Zach yells into the phone as though Zayn could hear him if only he spoke loud enough. _“I love you on your Bertdaaaaaaaaay”_ Harry watches himself tickle the toddler's sides making him shriek with laughter until he wriggles off of his lap to run off camera.

Harry watched his video self stare after the little boy before turning back to the camera with hooded eyes, putting on his ‘sexy face’ and Harry fought not to groan and cover his eyes in secondhand embarrassment.

 _"Hey you, I'm not there so I know you must be having a terrible birthday."_ He pauses to chuckle, catching his bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it again. _"But there's a bright side. I am that bright side, or more specifically, what all I plan to do to you when you get here."_ He pauses again to slowly lick his lips waggling his eyebrows comically.

 _"I'll give you a hint it involves whipped cream and that massage oil that heats up you like_." He snickers into the camera. _"Can't wait til you get here, Happy Birthday baby, I love you."_ He ends the video by blowing a kiss.

"Wow that was..."Harry starts.

"Proof!” Louis blurts at the same time that Zayn mutters, "silly I know but--"

"…me." Harry finally whispers, still staring down at the now black iPhone screen. "That was me saying those things, saying that I loved you and I looked so... _happy_."

"You were--are, we are happy together, just come home with me Haz, even just for the night. I keep telling myself that if only you were around your things, things from your life before the accident, that you'd start to remember. If you don't want to stay after the one night I’m not going to stop you from leaving but just, please...give it a chance."

Louis nudges him with his shoulder. "What do ya say, H?"

"I guess it couldn't hurt to try, for my memory. I mean, I did marry him and if it doesn't work out I can still come stay with you and Lee, right?"

"Of course! Our guest room is always open."

+++

The first thing Harry notices when he enters the flat is all the colors, some blending perfectly together and others that should clash but somehow work, along with the fact that not a single piece of furniture matched and yet it still managed to all come together.

“I know it's pretty out there but you could never just settle on one style, you call this Boho meets cattle ranch meets London chic." Harry nods because it's a nice flat, quaint but inviting with loads of character--it felt lived in more than anything and he found that he liked it.

He moves further into the flat, rounding a corner into what he assumes is the kitchen only to jump back in shock, colliding straight into Zayn’s chest as a wall of people are suddenly rushing at him, yelling surprise so many faces that he doesn't recognize aside from Louis and Liam all fighting to see who will get to hug him first.

It's a small blonde who ends up winning, tugging Harry to him in a bear hug that nearly knocks the air out his lungs, breathing into the side of his neck making Harry stiffen.

"God Hazza, don't ever scare us like that again, yeah?"

"Do I know you?"

"I'm Niall." The blonde informs him as if it should be obvious. "We lived together for a time I--" Niall's elbowed out of the way by a bloke with ginger hair who takes his place giving Harry a half hug.

"I'm Ed, don't mind him he's a bit slow, needs to look the word amnesia up. I reckon you don't remember me but we're good mates."

"I'm sorry but I..." He excuses himself, darting past other people telling him how great it is to see him and how good he looks and ducks into the first room he can find which turns out to be a bedroom. Tripping over to the bed he sits down at the foot, burying his face in his hands tries to calm his racing heart and just breathe.

Seconds later there's a soft knock at the door and it’s pushed open as someone enters the room.

Without lifting his face from his hands he growls.

"I don't wanna talk right now, Zayn."

"Good thing I’m not Zayn then." Harry’s head shoots up; he’d know that voice anywhere.

"Nick?"

"Hiya Popstar, you've certainly looked better."

Before Nick can blink Harry’s off the bed, throwing himself at him. "Oh Nick, god everything is--everything is so messed up."

Nick reaches up to pet Harry’s curls. "What do you mean, because you've lost a few of yer memories? You'll get ‘em back."

"No, because everything is different, not at all like I thought it would be, what I wanted."

"Huh, so all this time you were a psychic and I didn't even know it? You predicted what life would be like all the way back in 2013? Why didn’t you say anything? I would've played the lottery, bet on horses or summat."

Harry tilts his head up to shoot Nick a look. "That's not what I meant, it’s just--the band broke up, _we_ broke up. I threw my dream of being a famous rock star away and for what? To play in some house band at the Empire, gave up the road to start a family? That doesn't even sound like me!"

"It may not sound like nineteen-year-old you but twenty-eight-year-old Harry is quite the little home maker."

"Pssh, how would you know?"

"You call me up all the time to come taste your latest baking concoction--use me and Horan as your own personal guinea pigs."

"Horan?"

"The exuberant blonde fella you met just moments ago."

"Oh, the Irish one."

Nick lets out a laugh. "Yep that about sums him up perfectly."

"This is crazy Nick, the last thing I remember is touring the country with Peachy Keen, getting ready to record our first full album and being sickeningly in love with you, I’m supposed to be with _you,_ Grimmy."

"Haz I..." Nick starts, face pinched as if in pain but then the door opens and his mouth instantly snaps shut.

"Here you are." Zayn says in lieu of greeting, freezing when he notices Nick sat there, sitting close with an arm still thrown around Harry's shoulders and their hands clasped.

"Ah, Zayn." He greets in an overly friendly tone.

"Grimmy." Zayn grits out with a curt nod.

Nick nods as well, knows how to take a hint and stands. "I'll take that as my cue to go, you've got my number in your phone, don't be a stranger, Popstar." He heads for the door throwing a breezy, “Pleasure as always, Malik." over his shoulder.

Zayn snorts and watches Nick as he leaves.

Turning back to Harry his expression melts from anger to apologetic.

"I've sent everyone home so there's no need for you to hide in here all night if you wanted to, I don't know explore?” He pauses for Harry response but when the younger ma remains silent, still just sat there staring at his own hands. He tries again. "It wasn't supposed to go that way."

That gets a reaction, Harry’s head whipping up to glare incredulously at him. "And how exactly was it meant to go then?"

"I don't--I don't know what I was thinking, I let Niall and Ed convince me to let them throw this dumb party and I--everyone has just really missed you but I understand it was a lot to take in..."

"No Zayn, a lot to take in would've been coming home to a strange apartment with a man I don't know. _That_ would be a lot to take in but coming home to all of that, plus a house full of people I’ve never seen before pulling on me, hugging me and crying in my face, and talking to me as if I’m supposed to remember them and making me feel like shit because I _don't_ that was complete bollocks!"

"You're right, I know, I swear it was only supposed to be a few people."

Harry groans, grabbing the sides of his head. "Ugh, you just don't get it do you?"

"I..."

"Please leave."

"Haz, I’m sorry…”

"Seriously, can I have some bloody privacy?"

"Of course, I’m sorry."

Dropping his hands to his lap, Harry frowns guiltily. "No, _I’m_ sorry I just need..."

"It's alright, I understand."

“You really don’t…” Harry starts but Zayn is already out the door.

Refusing to sleep on the couch, Zayn ends up curling up in Zach’s toddler bed hugging Zach’s favorite plushie a purple giraffe named Georgie to his chest and tries to pretend the poor thing isn’t sopping wet from his tears by the time he finally falls off to sleep.

+++

 

The next morning Zayn is woken by his phone going off and digs blindly in the pocket of the jeans he’d fallen asleep in. Squinting at the screen he snarls when he sees it’s an alarm reminding him of the baby shower he’s supposed to photograph that morning.

Stretching his arms above his head he forces himself out of bed knowing he’ll likely fall back asleep otherwise and grabs a fresh towel out of the hall closet on his way to the bathroom for a shower.

+++

 

Zayn enters the bedroom in search of clothes completely starkers out of habit.

It’s quite the sight to wake up to; Harry has to admit, as he bites his lip to suppress any audible reaction pretending to still be sleep as he watches Zayn move about the room. He may not have any memory of being married to this man but even he could appreciate a beautiful bloke when he saw one and Zayn was on a whole other level.

Gorgeous expanse of smooth caramel skin, interrupted only by the stark black ink of his tattoos, glossy raven hair that fanned down to the hinge of his jaw, the muscles in his barely there arse flexing with his movements and then there was of course his cock, hanging soft and perfect between his leg. Even flaccid the man had nothing to be ashamed of.

Once fully dressed Zayn digs into the top draw of his bureau for a pair of socks and moves towards the door but stops before he can leave, turning towards the bed with a smirk.

“I know you’ve been awake this whole time babe, we’re married. I know how you look and sounds when you’re sleep.” Harry can feel his face start to heat up in embarrassment but doesn’t give the other man the satisfaction of being right and continues to feign sleep until he finally leaves.

Forgoing a shower Harry gets up and dresses in the most normal looking clothes he can find a pair of black Adidas track pants and a white t-shirt with the words cool kids don’t dance printed on the front.

Zayn nearly chokes on the sip of coffee he’s just taken at the sight of Harry in his clothes and decides to keep that fact to himself. Harry already looks out of place enough, as it was which really didn’t sit right with him, it wasn’t right for Harry to be uncomfortable in his own home.

“Good morning.”

“Mornin’” mumbles Harry, running a nervous hand through his curls.

“Nice shirt.”

“Thanks, nothing else in my closet really fit me, it’s all skinny jeans and funny tops with the first three buttons missing for some reason.”

“Oh! There’s an explanation for that—Louis, pulled a prank on you last April, claimed you never used them anyway and instead of getting angry and vowing your revenge you bloody thanked him, said it was so considerate of him…I gotta hand it to you though, I’ve never seen him so gob smacked in all the years I’ve known him.”

“I did?”

“Mmhm.” Zayn confirms, watching as Harry eyes the spread on the table. “Hungry?”

“Uh, yeah I could eat.”

Zayn stands to get him a plate and starts piling food onto it as he speaks “It’s not much, just some eggs and turkey bacon.”

“Turkey bacon?”

“I don’t eat pork being Muslim and all, besides it’s healthier? Or well, as healthy as it can be, it is still bacon after all.”

“Oh. Right, it looks great thank you.”

“Your welcome. It’s sort of a ‘please forgive me for being a twat’ breakfast.”

Harry waves him off. “It’s seriously fine, like at the time it wasn’t but now it’s totally water under the bridge. I’m not really one for holding grudges, they’re too time consuming and toxic to your health, unless…do I hold grudges now?”

“No, you pretty much still think it’s shite on the soul and fucks with your chakras and inner peace or whatever rubbish they teach you in yoga class.”

“I take yoga?”

Zayn nods once. “Every Sunday.”

“I only do it once a week?”

“You attend a _class_ once a week, you meditate and do your own thing every morning, and I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you had just started forcing me to do it too.”

“Have I?”

“Mmhm.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Harry teases, quirking an eyebrow.

Zayn scratches at the back of his neck, not meeting his eyes. “Haven’t really had the chance to pick it back up, been sorta busy…”

Harry blinks and his playful look is back to somber at the reminder of the last few weeks in the hospital.

“Right…well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m alright now, you don’t have to sit around and babysit me, I’d feel much more comfortable if you went about your normal routine. Just treat me like a person, not a specimen.”

“Have I been staring then?” Zayn asked with a sheepish grin.

“Little bit.” He admits, getting up to check the fridge for milk and lets out a little laugh as he closes it again.

“What's with all the tomatoes in the fridge?" Harry asks milk in hand.

"You were in the middle of another juice cleanse before the accident..."

"A _what_?” He checks the cupboard for a glass and ends up finding where they must keep the snacks and can’t help but frown.  “Also, I have to ask what is this rubbish…rice cakes, apple chips? Raw almonds, where are the crisps? My jaffa cakes? How can you say we're married and you don't even keep my favorite snack food in the house?"

"Uh, you don't really eat that stuff anymore, haven't since Zach was born. You turned over a new leaf and vowed to lead a healthier lifestyle and forced me to as well."

"So no burgers then?"

"Um, no sorry there hasn’t been red meat in the house for ages but we could always pop into Tesco and get some, I mean if you remember eating red meat then we'll get you red meat alright babe, nothing to worry over.”

“Thanks, so do you work; I mean you have a job, yeah?”

“Yes.” Zayn chuckles. “I’ve actually got a shoot this morning.”

“A shoot?”

“I’m a freelance photographer, I also do graphic design work but photography is my main passion so while I hate to eat and dash I’ve got to be on the other side of town in an hour.” Zayn said moving to put his dishes in the washer.

“That’s fine but like what do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“While you’re at work what am I doing?”

Zayn stops gathering his things to think. “Erm, whatever you like? I mean, I’m not usually here so I don’t really know, but you mostly pay bills, reply to emails, take care of Zach, those kind of things until I get home and we have family time until it’s time for you go in to work at the club.”

Harry glances around the kitchen as if just noticing something. “Where is Zach, anyway?”

“He spent the night at the neighbors for the party and Lou said she didn’t mind watching him today, and I figured when I get home tonight I could start looking for a daycare center for him just until you—just until we get a better handle on things.”

“I think that would be best.” Harry agrees, looking up at the clock. “So you’ve got a shoot in an hour.”

“Yes, right…are you sure you’ll be alright? I could text Niall to come over and keep you company, he’s never got anything going on. He works from home as a song writer slash music producer and claims he’s always busy penning the next Beyoncé song or whatever but I suspect he’s really just sitting around gorging himself on crisps and Fifa, which he could totally do here if you don’t want to be alone.”

“Niall’s the blonde Irish one, yeah? The hugger?”

Zayn nods, fighting a smile. “That’s him, he’s a cuddler.”

“No offense to him but I think I’ll pass, I’d like to have a look around the flat and try and reach my folks if possible.”

“Sure-sure well, you’ve got your mobile with all my numbers in it and your house keys are in the bowl by the door in case you have to leave for an emergency or summat, they’re the ones on the banana key ring.” Harry nodded along, though Zayn suspected he was mostly doing it to appease him. “Now remember the doctor said no driving or operating heavy machinery, not that you have to worry about the latter, just promise to call me if you need me.”

“I promise now go on before you’re late, I’ll be fine I’m house trained and everything.”

“Good to know, guess I’ll be going then.” Zayn goes to lean in for a kiss but he catches himself at the last second and decides on an awkward pat on the shoulder instead. “Bye.”

“Have a good day!” Harry sing-songs back, waving him out the door before finally digging into his breakfast.

+++

After breakfast Harry makes good on his word to Zayn by exploring the flat, trying his best to familiarize himself with his surroundings, tries to convince himself that he’s home. During his exploration he comes across a DVD case with a post-it note attached that simply read: MORE EVIDENCE in all caps and underlined twice. Curiously, he pops it into the player.

 _“I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness and to have the patience that love demands.”_ Harry watches himself with his nose wrinkled in disbelief, not believing that he’d actually said something like that, laughing at what they’re wearing, him in a pale pink button down with penguins on it and Zayn in a sweet looking leather jacket with a rose stuck to its lapel. And there was of course the fact that the wedding was being held in what looked like a smoothie shop.

Then Zayn starts reciting his vows and Harry’s laughter dies. _“Did you write your vows on an Energy Jooz menu?”_ Zayn asks him and Harry watches his older counterpart nod, dimpling hugely in his amusement. _“I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love…”_ Harry bites his lip and can feel his eyes start to water as he’s overcome with emotion. Zayn loved him, he really truly loved him and Harry couldn’t even recall the guy’s last name.

It wasn’t fair; it wasn’t fair that Zayn get to remember them, what they had together—to have to live with those memories knowing that there was a chance Harry would never remember. Grabbing up the remote he cut the telly off and decided he needed to get out of there, go get some fresh air.

After about a ten minute walk, he finds himself standing outside Energy Jooz and enters before he can lose his nerve and pours over the menu for a few minutes a bit surprised to see there’s so many different flavors to choose from when a man finally approaches him, greeting him warmly by name.

“Harry, how are you mate; it’s been a while.”

“Has it?”

The man nods. “A couple weeks at least—the longest you’ve ever stayed away, glad to see all is well. Did you want your usual?”

Relief flashes across Harry’s face. “I have a usual?”

“Of course I know you and Zayn like to come in here and try a new flavor but lately when it’s just you you’ve been ordering he same thing…Banana and kale.”

Harry blanches. “Really? That can’t taste good.”

“You love it.”

“Guess I’ll take your word for it, thanks.”

Stepping out the shop with smoothie in hand he’s pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not half bad, it takes a few sips to really grow on him but once he’s used to the taste he finds the mixture is quite complimentary.

He’s been walking for a few minutes when realizes he’s lost, doesn’t recognize a single building or landmark from the walk over and is starting to panic, worst of all he realizes he’s left his mobile on the kitchen counter and has no way of contacting Zayn or even Louis. There’s only one person he can think to call at a time like this and he’s not entirely sure he even has the right to use it anymore.

He ducks into nearby flower shop anyway and asks to use their phone.

+++

 

“Harry, I’m home, I was thinking we could order in Chinese tonight if you…” Zayn calls out as he makes his way through the apartment poking his head into rooms in search of his husband not liking how quiet the house is.

He begins to panic when his search turns up empty and he spots Harry’s phone and keys still where he’d left them. Cursing to himself he sets off after him—there’s no telling where Harry went and without any way of getting in touch with him Zayn knows looking for Harry will literally be like trying to find a needle in a haystack but he also knows he has to try.

+++

It’s not until an hour later that Harry turns up, Zayn’s perched on the edge of the couch knee jiggling nervously because he’d looked everywhere for Harry, running all over the city with no luck and now here he was, waltzing in like nothings the matter and with Nick Grimshaw of all people, laughing like a bloody hyena at a joke that probably doesn’t deserve it.

“Oh hey, you’re home.”

Zayn stands from, hands clenched at his side in an attempt to stay calm. “Yeah, I am and you weren’t.”

“I know, I know, I got lost…physically and mentally, it was terrible. And I forgot to grab my mobile on the way out, so I couldn’t call _you_ so I called Nick instead, and we made a day of it, did a bit of shopping and had lunch. Caught up, it was lovely.”

Zayn looks like he’s about to blow his top so Nick clears his throat. “Look, I think I’m going to go but I’ll see ya around, yeah?”

“Of course! Thanks for coming to get me earlier, you’re a real life saver.”

“Anytime Popstar…Zayn.”

“Nick.” Zayn parrots, never taking his eyes off his husband. “Harry, have you any idea how worried I was; I nearly went mad looking all over London for you—I just kept thinking the worst.”

“Hey I’m ok, I know I should’ve called and I promise to never leave home without my phone ever again, I know something bad could’ve happened but it didn’t, and everything is fine.”

“You called Nick?”

“Yeah it’s weird but his number is like the only one I have memorized other than Gem and my mum but it’s not like I could call them, and Nick still lives in the area so he came and got me straight from work, that’s not a problem right?”

Zayn rubs at his temple. “No it’s just…”

“Great because tonight would be kind of awkward then, if you two didn’t get along.”

“Tonight? What’s happening tonight?”

“Nick invited me, well us, to this club he’s deejaying at called Eight Ball.” He says with a mile-wide grin, his smile fades at the look of distaste on Zayn’s own face. “But you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Zayn sighs at the excitement on Harry’s face, can tell he really wants to go but clubs have never really been his thing, he was more of a pub kind of lad not to mention he didn’t quite fit in with Grimmy’s crowd but he can’t say no and risk disappointing the younger man.

“I do actually because you’re not allowed to drive but that’s not the point, I want to go, really, it’s been a while since we’ve watched Nick spin.”

“Really? Thank you, this is going to be great I picked up a few things that feel more ‘me’ while I was out so I can wear them tonight then.”

“That’s great, babe.” Zayn says, trying to mask his apprehension as he watches Harry all but skip to the bedroom.

+++

The club is just as terrible as Zayn had imagined it would be forced to watch Harry stare longingly at Nick up in the DJ booth with stars in his eyes and when he’s not doing that, he’s gabbing with Nick’s group of hens and it’s like no time has passed at all and he just feel so out of place because this isn’t his scene, these aren’t his friends. He’s not having a good time and it probably shows but Harry is either too busy to notice or is ignoring him in favor of playing catch up.

Things only get worse once Nick’s set is through and he leaves the booth to join their table and immediately becomes the life of the party, talking loud and brash and telling jokes that are only ok, but from the way everyone but Zayn go mad over, then you’d think they were sitting with bloody Ricky Gervais! And he knows he has no reason to be jealous, Harry was married to _him—_ he’d won but it was kind of hard for him to feel like a winner when Harry was sat right in front of him hanging on Nick’s every word and Zayn reckons he might as well not even be there for all anyone even acknowledged him or tried to make him feel included in, anyway. He might as well have been a fly on the wall.

+++

 

Harry’s listening to Nick tell yet another hilarious story about his radio producer Finchy, namely how he’s made it his personal mission to drive the poor man either to an early grave or to the nearest psych ward. But just as the story starts getting good, Zayn stands and tells them he’s going for another drink.

This didn’t worry Harry because the other man had been nursing the same drink since they arrived, so he didn’t see the harm in him having just one more before the night was through. He tried to focus on Nick’s story—Nick told such great stories, he had the perfect voice for it and knew how to keep his audience engaged, but for some reason Harry found his eyes drawn to Zayn, watching him weave his way through the crowd to the bar. Noticing the appreciative looks he gets in his wake.

And it’s not like he’s surprised to see other people’s attraction to Zayn—he _was_ outwardly beautiful but he was surprised by the queasy uneasy feeling it gave him, like a bad aftertaste he couldn’t rinse. He knew he had no right to feel this way about someone he barely knew but it was almost like he couldn’t help it, as though there was something in him deep down inside that remembered and didn’t like the idea of other people ogling what was his.

Turning back to Nick, he tries to tune everything else out and just focus on the story Nick’s telling because it sounds like a really good one but then he gets this weird sensation at the back of his neck and glances back over to the bar where Zayn had last gone and stiffens at what he sees, Zayn is not alone. He’s smiling at this tall bloke with sandy blonde hair and it’s the first time he’s looked anything other than miserable all night—actually laughing at whatever he’s just said. Their standing awfully close for strangers and the other man has his hand rested on Zayn’s arm as though it belongs there.

Harry narrows his eyes and before he knows what he’s doing he’s sauntering over to the bar, sliding in behind Zayn ready to tell this dude to back off because he may not remember loving this man but his older-self did and he’s not about to let some tall, blonde, and gorge— “Dr. Spencer?”

The blonde turns to him and grins “Harry, wow, you look a lot different without the bandages and backless hospital gown.”

“You too, I almost didn’t recognize you without the scrubs and stethoscope.” He wasn’t lying, his doctor had always been handsome but now with his hair perfectly styled, and he’s wearing a pair of fitted black slacks and a grey button top that shows off an impressive set of arms that could give Liam a run for his money.

Dr. Spencer smiles warmly. “I get that a lot.”

“So doc, are you here alone?”

“Please call me Colin and no I’m here with a couple of mates.” He tells them nodding over to a table a couple down from where Nick and them sat and of course Colin’s mates would all be equally as attractive.

Zayn clears his throat. “I was just telling Colin here about how things were going and about you getting lost today.”

“And you found that funny?” Harry accuses, looking wholly unamused.

“Um no but the joke he made after was.”

“You made a joke? I _love_ jokes, do share.”

Colin coughs into his hand, looking uncomfortably. “It wasn’t actually that funny but I snapped my fingers and said ‘d’oh I knew we should’ve planted that GPS chip when we had the chance’.”

That set them off in another fit of laughter that Harry doesn’t join in on. “Huh, you’re right it wasn’t that funny. So Zee, are you coming back to the table?” It’s the first time Harry’s used that nickname and he hates the ray of hope it gives Zayn, that Harry was remembering because he wasn’t, he only said that for Dr. Spencer’s benefit, who still stood a little too close for comfort, though he’d moved his hand from Zayn’s arm so at least there was that.

“Uh yeah, just give me a second to say goodbye and I’ll be right over.” Reluctantly Harry nods, offering the doctor a little wave as he walks around them, headed back to their table.

“Nice seeing you, Dr. Spencer.”

“You too, Harry, take it easy.”

He’s still distracted, thinking about the way the doctor was eyeing Zayn, looking just as hungry for him as the random club-goers who currently ogled him from the dance floor.

“Welcome back, Popstar, way to leave me mid-sentence.”

“Sorry, Grimmers, just saw someone I know.”

“Oh?”

Harry shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “S’my doctor.”

“Doctor?” Moving his head so that he could see around Harry, Nick lets out an appreciative whistle.

“Mm-mm, quick someone give me a concussion and Aims, you yell is there a doctor in the house, ok break!”

“Oh piss off, he’s not _that_ good looking.”

“Not that good looking?” Nick feigns disbelief. “He’s even got your bloody husband toying with his hair like a dozy little school girl with a crush.”

Peeking over his shoulder he tries not to frown. “You really think?”

“You sound like you care…are you starting to remember the two of you then?”

“No, not really I just feel weird about—things.”

“Feeling weird about things, got it.” Nick nods with a teasing grin.

“Oh shut it, it’s just weird that I feel this way—this jealous sort of way but like I don’t have any feelings to justify my jealousy.”

Nick looks to be pondering this, twirling the ice in his mojito while Harry snuck glances at Zayn and _Colin._ Even just thinking the name made Harry’s right eye twitch.

It’s another five minutes before Zayn finally joins them, sliding into the seat beside Harry and setting his vodka coke down on the table.

“Have a nice chat?”

Zayn looks surprised by the question, his drink halfway to his lips. “Uh yeah Colin’s pretty cool, we’ve got a lot in common and he was telling me that he knows a guy who can get him tickets to see Drake in concert next month and I told him he’d be my favorite person in the world if he got me one too but I doubt he’s actually going to.”

“You want to go with him to a Drake concert? Like a—a date?”

“What? No of course not, are you mad? Harry, you’re my _husband,_ how could you even ask such a thing?”

“Who doesn’t even remember you…wouldn’t it just be easier to cut your losses and start over new with someone who shares your interests? You can’t tell me you don’t notice the way people look at you, both men and women.”

Zayn stares at him as if he’s lost his mind, ignoring the others who’ve paused their conversation to watch them. “I don’t really pay attention, if I’m being honest, there’s no need when I’ve already found my soul mate. I only want you, I love _you_ and our life together with Zach, that’s all I need.” Harry knew he should say something like don’t, don’t waste your time loving a ghost because he doesn’t feel that way about Zayn.

No matter how attractive he is, no matter how lovely a person he was Harry just didn’t see himself feeling anything more than friendship—he wanted _his_ life back. Wanted to be the carefree nineteen-year-old he still felt that he was, wanted to be touring the world as the front man of a world famous band. Not tied down by a wedding ring and a kid.

He wanted to be free.

But he couldn’t say any of that, couldn’t bear to hurt Zayn so instead he gulped in some air.

“Thank you.”

+++

“It was awful, Niall, the music was non-stop indie-electropop which so isn’t my thing and no one barely talked to me the whole night and I couldn’t even get pissed because I had to drive us home. I might as well have waited in the bloody car playing candy crush on me phone.”

“No one talked to you? Not even, Haz?” Niall asked, putting around in just his pants making them both a cuppa.

“Oh no, he was much too busy making googly eyes at Nick! Right in front of me, might I add.”

“Nick? You mean Grimmy, his ex?”

Zayn scoffs. “Not in his mind, in his mind he’s nineteen and still very much in love with him!”

“Tough break mate” Niall soothed, handing Zayn his mug.

Zayn grabbed for it with a soft thanks and took his first invigorating sip before setting it down on the end table only to wrinkle his nose at the sight of some girl’s panties hanging off the lampshade right by his head.

“I take it your night fared better?” He drawled, gesturing to the lacey knickers. After Niall and Ed moved out of the flat they shared with Zayn, they found a place together but a year later Ed met a girl named Jenah and after dating for a while they decided to get a place together and thus Niall had to once again move out this time in search of the perfect bachelor pad.  

Which worked out because Niall wasn’t exactly the settling down type, he liked to have as much fun with as many girls as possible while he was young enough to still pull at the clubs without being seen as that creepy old Irish bloke.

“Too right I did, cute little thing I met at the gym.” Zayn nearly chokes on his tea laughing.

“Wait, _you_ were at the gym?” Niall rolled his eyes, clearly not seeing the humor.

“That one month subscription Payno got me last Christmas expires in a few weeks so I thought I’d finally make use of it…don’t judge, anyway we clicked straight off and I actually think she might be the one.”

“ _The_ one? But you’ve only just met her how can you know?”

“She’s got all the things I’m looking for.”

“And what’s that?”

“A pretty face, hot bod and she’s crazy flexible. I mean the things she did last night.” Niall mimed having his mind blown.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “That can’t be all there is to it, you’ve got to want more.”

Niall didn’t even pretend to think about it. “No, that’s pretty much all I need, not everyone is like you Zaynie, for some all it takes is an intense physical reaction and they just know.” He snaps his fingers as a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Say maybe that’s it.”

“What?” Zayn asked, having zoned out after Niall admitted that all he looked for in a potential spouse was to be attractive and flexible.

“You need to remind Haz what he’s missing.”

“Aren’t I already doing that?” He asked confused.

“What turns him on?”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s your go to move to put him in the mood?”

“Shove off that’s private.”

Niall rolled his eyes with a little laugh. “Oh come on like I really care, I’m not going to judge, you’ve got my word.”

Zayn hesitates a beat before sighing. “He likes to be tickled…behind his neck.”

“Really?”

Zayn punched him in the thigh. “Oi, I thought you weren’t going to judge!”

“I’m not judgin’ I’m just taking it in is all, _Jaysus_ ” He cried, massaging his throbbing muscle.

“It’s not like a kink or anything, it’s just when he’s stressed about something I’ll give him a little tickle and it takes him out of his head, calms him down.”

“Alright, well then try that.”

“Seriously?”

Niall shrugged, stuffing a biscuit into his mouth and talking around his food.

“Why not, what’ve you got to lose?”

+++

While Zayn was over at Niall’s Harry decides to catch a cab over to the Radio One station to see how being the host of the Breakfast show was treating Nick.

You see long before Peachy Keen and Nick and Harry became _NickandHarry_. At the time Nick was nothing more than a poor Uni student on the cusp of flunking out because he couldn’t be bothered to do his course work or show up for any of his classes, his true passion was radio and as a second year he’d somehow weaseled his way into a time slot on the campus station.

Back then Harry had just been a dumb kid who loved music—always sneaking into over 18 shows in dingy bars where the guy at the door would look the other way when a boy with curls and the face of a cherub that could never pass for legal if he slipped the right bill in his hand.

That’s how he met Nick, he’d snuck into an Arctic Monkey show—the most mainstream concert he’d ever been to aside from Mcfly when he was fourteen and the Script a few years after that. They met when Harry tried ordering a drink and was about to get carded, the bartender squinting at Harry as if sizing up whether to take the risk or not when Nick swooped in like a bloody alcohol enabling knight in shining armor and told the bartender he’d be paying and to make him a whiskey sour while he was at it.

Harry was pretty much a goner from the moment Nick aimed his charming smile his way and winked.

He became an almost permanent fixture in Nick’s life after that, coming on campus to either visit with Nick at his dorm or to sit in on his radio show, often sitting crossed-legged under the sound board and being an all-around nuisance.

Nick would never admit it but he loved it.

Eventually Nick’s mates stopped taking the piss out of him for having a groupie and adopted Harry as one of their own, and then Harry turned seventeen and did as seventeen year olds do, went through a growth spurt—his voice dropping about twelve octaves and before Nick knew it his pip squeak of a mate had turned into a young man with an active sex drive and treacherous dimples that he was not above using to get his way and he pursued Nick with a vengeance until Nick finally caved.

Though it hadn’t really taken much, he already loved Harry as a person and the leap from mate to lover wasn’t that hard to make, so they started dating and then when Nick finally did flunk out of Uni they started a band.

So it was only fitting that when he’s permitted entrance to the radio one studio thanks to a quick text to Nick telling him that he was stood outside the building and asking if he thought it would be cool for him to come up. Nick waved him in with a finger pressed to his mouth as Tina Daheley finishes up the newsbeat and they go to break.

Nick removes his headphones. “Harold! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Eh was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d swing by and see how the other half live.” He joked, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as something to do. “Besides I was there during your humble beginnings, it’s only right I see what you’ve made of yourself.”

“True, so what do you think?” He asks, sweeping his arms out to encompass the studio. “Welcome to my domain. My home away from home...and these cretins would be the dysfunctional family I never asked for we’ve got Finchy whom I spent most of last night talking about, he’s like the boring father, Fearne she’s our mummy, Ian the older brother who always makes me look bad, Greg the black sheep fuck up brother who always makes me look _good_ and Fifi the drunk aunty everyone pretends not to know in public. Everyone, this is Harry!” The room erupts with various greetings everyone talking over each other and Harry barely catches a word of it but he still smiles and waves at each of them.

“I can’t give you a proper tour being live and all, but maybe after?”

“Sounds good.”

“For now, why don’t you have a seat there in the corner? Watch me work mah magic.”

The first time Nick leaves his desk to use the loo Harry crawls beneath the soundboard much to everyone’s confusion and amusement. When Nick returns he sits in his chair and lets out the least manly scream as something or someone rather pinches his ankle and looks under the table to see Harry grinning innocently up at him.

“Oh boy if this doesn’t bring back memories.” Nick jokes, picking up his headphone and putting them on but leaves one’s ear off.

“Thought you’d appreciate a little nostalgia.” Harry counters with a cheeky grin.

Nick’s eyes widen and he matches Harry’s smile with a smirk of his own. “As I recall towards the latter end of my LSradio career, you did more than just poke me under there.”

If his goal was to get Harry to turn the exact shade of a tomato, then mission accomplished.

+++

 

Once the show ends Nick gives Harry a quick tour of the studio before suggesting they go grab some drinks and an early dinner at this Italian bistro he swears Harry loves.

They’re barely settled in their seats when Nick orders them a bottle of wine while they read the menu over. The waitress returns to fill their glasses and take their orders before disappearing once more.

Once she’s gone Harry folds his hands on the table in front of him and levels Nick with his eyes. “So what exactly happened with us? The last thing I remember is performing at the Empire and going through contract negotiations for our first album and _we_ were good, stronger than ever in fact.”

“Wow right for the jugular then, eh? Alright well, long story short, you changed. You started growing your hair out, dressing differently, and talking marriage which sent my bullocks retreating up into me arse because you know me, know how I was back then—hell, I haven’t changed much in that department if I’m being honest. It didn’t help that yer best mate had just gotten engaged to that perfect little army man looking chef of his. It got to the point where it was me or wedding bells and needless to say you chose what was hiding behind door number two.”

Harry bit his lip. “So you’re saying we broke up and I went and got hitched to the first man I saw; you don’t think I married Zayn because I love him?”

“Now I didn’t say all that but it is a bit suspicious, don’t you think? That not six months after we call it quits you meet your Zayn at Lou’s wedding and get married not a year later.”

Harry reaches for his glass of wine and take a healthy swig. “This all seems insane to me, none of it feels real like I haven’t changed—I’m still me, look at what I’m wearing.” He says, pointing to his black Rolling Stones t-shirt and loose-fitting chinos. “No Hawaiian print, no girl jeans and believe me Nick, the last thing I want is to be is married with a bloody kid! I’m only nineteen, for fucks sake, I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“Well obviously there’s a part of you that is, or else you wouldn’t have dumped me a year later for not wanting any of it.”

+++

 

The minute Harry walks through the door he’s attacked by a two-foot-tall toddler pouting with his hands on his hips.

“You’re late.” He chastises and Harry has to shake his head as he feels the two glasses of wine he’s had with dinner go straight to his head.

“I’m sorry.” He says then spies Zayn leaning in the doorway that separates the kitchen from the living room and raises an eyebrow “I didn’t realize I had a curfew.”

“You don’t, it’s just taco night…it’s his favorite so he takes it pretty seriously.”

Harry’s eyes widen in understanding. “Is that right little man? Tacos are my favorite too.”

The little boy rolls his eyes, reminding Harry an awful lot of Louis in that moment. “I know dat Daddy, dat’s why yer late! We are pose ta cook togedder but you were not here an Papa had ta ‘elp instead.”

Harry nods along, putting on his most grave expression, trying to treat the situation as serious as the toddler felt it was. “Does he not know what he’s doing?”

Zach shrugs his little shoulders. “He knows but tacos are _our_ specially.” And finally Harry understood that Zach’s anger had very little to do with the food, he was angry that Harry had skipped out on their bonding time.

“Oh right, right I’m sorry I forgot, little man, I’ll remember next time.” Zach looked as though he were about to forgive him when Zayn suddenly spoke up instead.

“I think it’s only fair that since you missed dinner that you let Zach pick a movie for the two of you to watch.”

The toddler jumps at the idea, clapping his hands excitedly as he cries “Tangled!” without hesitation.

“Tangled? I don’t think I’ve seen that one yet.”

“Sure you have, lotsa times! I will go get Jor-gee an Tank an you can start da movie.” Zach heads for his bedroom leaving Harry standing there completely clueless until Zayn takes pity on him and explains:

“Georgie is the giraffe and Tank’s the turtle, just in case there’s a quiz.”

Harry physically looks relieved. “Thanks.”

He goes over to the telly and pops the DVD in, watching the coming attractions while he waits for Zach to return, he finally comes running back out the room with a stuffed animal under each arm and the fly of his trousers down.

“I had go potty.” He announces to no one in particular.

“I can see that.”

“Huh?” The little boy asks and the confused look he shoots Harry is absolutely adorable.

“Your fly is open, genuinely open.”

Looking down to see if Harry was telling the truth Zach laughs when he spies his superman undies through the gap of his fly. “Oh!” He giggles and moves towards Harry, waiting expectantly for his dad to zip him up again before holding the turtle out to him. “Here Daddy you can hole Tank.”

“Erm thanks.”

Midway through the film Zayn comes out to join them, taking a seat on Zach’s opposite side. It’s not long after that that Zach falls asleep, it’s just before Rapunzel realizes that she’s the missing Princess.

“Think I better get him to bed.” Zayn whispers so as not to wake the boy.

Harry nods distracted, not looking away from the telly screen. “Sure, I think I’m going to keep watching, I wanna know how it ends.” Zayn snorts but doesn’t tease him, instead he lifts Zach in both arms and carries him down the hall.

He returns seconds later and silently rejoins Harry on the couch, if he scoots a little closer to the other man, neither of them comments.

“That was pretty good.” Harry declares once the end credits are rolling, stretching his arms up over is head.

“Zach’s got good taste, it’s his favorite for a reason.”

Harry hums.

“So how was your visit with Niall?” He asks at the same time Zayn blurts: “What’d you get up to today?”

“You go first.” Zayn insists.

“Nothing special just had a look around London got lost again but nifty little things these mobile phones I was able to use GPS to find my way back.”

“That had to be stressful.” Zayn said, sneaking his arm onto the back of the couch while Harry nods.

“It was.” He agrees.

“Maybe I can help you with that…” Zayn offers, moving his arm so that he can get his hand up under Harry’s hair to tickle his neck.

To his surprise instead of moaning Harry yelps, jumping up off the couch and glaring down at Zayn.

“What the hell was that?”

Guilty, Zayn sits on his hands as if to punish them. “It was nothing, you obviously didn’t like it, so it’s whatever.” Zayn says shrugging and avoiding Harry’s eyes.

It’s Harry’s turn to look guilty. “Oh god was that one of our—was that a thing for us?”

Zayn shrugs again. “Yeah but it’s whatever, are you tired? Because I’m tired…think I’m going to hit the hay so if you wouldn’t mind getting out my bed…” He tried to joke referring to the couch.

“Yes of course…” Harry gets up, ready to flee to the bedroom and hide but thinks better of it and whirls back around. “Actually no, you’re not going to sweep this under the rug, you can’t keep doing things like that, Zayn…I’m not that Harry anymore— _your_ Harry. I don’t like to be tickled, I don’t have a weekly standing date to make tacos with my son, I don’t _have a son_ and you forcing all that stuff on me isn’t going to make the memories come back any sooner, if they even are coming back.”

Zayn’s nostrils flare. “You think I don’t know that, you think I’m just sat here waiting for you to wake up with all your memories? That I haven’t considered that this might be my life now because I have, I’ve had nightmares where you decide that this isn’t what you want and leave me for Nick. This isn’t easy for me either, Harry, but at least I’m trying!”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I haven’t been trying?”

“If you have been I haven’t seen it. What I do see is you changing your clothes and hanging out with Grimmy and basically reverting back to who you used to be.”

“It’s all I know, Zayn; don’t you get that? This is all I know; why can’t you just accept it?”

“Because _I_ don’t know _him.”_ Zayn finally shouts and Harry can tell he hadn’t meant to blurt that out by the way his hands shake when he runs them through his hair. “Damnit.” He curses but before Harry can say anything Zayn shoves passed him and into the bathroom, letting the door slam shut behind him.

+++

 

When Zayn gets home from work the next day the last thing he expects to find is Harry sat at his desk, staring at a picture of himself with an overnight bag packed and sitting by the door.

The picture means a lot to Zayn and he wonders what Harry is thinking of when he looks at it, wonders if he’s remembering the day it was taken…

_-2015-_

_Zayn straddled Harry’s waist and brought his old fashioned Polaroid camera up to his face. Harry’s eyes fly open at the telltale sound of a camera’s flash and he holds his hand up to block the lens, groaning sleepily._

_“No, not now Zayn, my hair probably looks a fright.”_

_“You look gorgeous actually and I wanted to—no I needed to capture this moment so I don’t forget.”_

_“Forget what?”_

_“The morning after our first time, the morning I fell in like with you.”_

_Harry groans a second time peeking one eye open to take Zayn in. “Oh god, don’t tell me I’ve gone and found myself a cheeser for a boyfriend.”_

_“Boyfriend, whoa there we only just met.” Harry grins, reaching a hand up to stroke the side of Zayn’s face._

_“I know that but do you really think I’m letting you go now that I’ve found you?”_

_“Who’s the cheeser now?”_

-2022-

Eying the duffle bag by the door, Zayn can’t help but to swallow loudly as he tried to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat, He’d anticipated there’d be some awkwardness after last night’s fight and him leaving before Harry woke this morning in order to take Zach to daycare and meet with a potential client who wanted him to design their business’ website, but figured he’d come home and apologize and they could get past this.

The thought of Harry leaving him hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“What’s all this, then?”

“Good you’re home, my mum called me this morning and said she and Robin are back from their trip so I thought I’d take a trip to Cheshire and visit them.” The toilet flushes and Zayn can’t stop himself from giving the bathroom door a dubious glance.

“Is someone here?” Before Harry can answer Gemma exits the bathroom and smiles when she sees him.

“Zayn!” She says, immediately going in for a hug that he eagerly returns.

“Hey Gem.” He greets once they’ve separated again.

“Where is my nephew?”

“We had to start him in daycare due to my job and well, Harry’s condition.”

Her mouth pulls into a pout that I almost identical to her brothers. “Oh poo, I miss the little bugger.”

“It had to happen eventually.” He tells her with a shrug.

“True but it’s still rotten luck that the one time I make it into the city and he’s not around.”

“That just means you ought to visit more.” He points out with a playful swat to her shoulder.

“Don’t I wish.” She says, reaching up to squeeze his cheek in retaliation, “I miss seeing your handsome face.” Harry watches them interact with a weird look, feeling a bit betrayed by his sister that she would treat this stranger las though he were family.

He clears his throat pointedly to get their attention and Gemma seems to read his expression loud and clear and darts over to his bag. “I’ll just go put this in the car, give you two a minute alone.”

“Thanks.”

Once she’s out of the room Zayn turns to Harry glaring. “So you’re running away then, one little fight and you’re off?”

“That’s not what I’m doing, I just think we both could use some time apart and I really do want to see my family.” Zayn looks like he wants to say something but seems to think better of it and nods.

“Don’t you have an appointment with Dr. Spencer today?”

Harry nods. “I do, Gem’s going to take me there and then we’re off to Cheshire from there.”

“Can I at least give you an awkward hug goodbye?” That surprises a laugh out of Harry who opens his arms in invitation.

“Of course you can.”

Zayn holds him tight and breathes in the comforting scent of shampoo, soap and Harry and hopes this is not the last time he’ll be able to.

+++

 

“So Harry, how are you feeling?” Dr. Spencer asks as he shines a light in Harry’s eyes, checking the dilation of his pupils.

“Fine, I feel great.”

“Yeah? No dizziness, disorientation or sleepiness?”

“Nope.” Harry answers shortly, hoping the other man would get the hint that he wasn’t exactly one of Harry’s favorite people.

“That’s great to hear.” The doctor grins, looking genuinely chuffed to know Harry is progressing nicely. “That makes my job a whole lot easier, your CT scans look excellent…as far as your memory recall, any progress there?”

“Not really, no.”

“No? Hm.” The doctor makes a face that makes Harry squirm.

“That’s not normal is it?”

“Hey no, listen when it comes to brain injuries there’s no such thing as ‘normal’ because no two brains are the same. You’re doing great—better than.”

“Oh well that’s a relief.” The doctor nods.

Dr. Spencer checks a few more of Harry’s vitals before speaking up again, “Harry, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, doc.”

“Do you _want_ to regain your memory?”

“Uh, yes of course, why would you even ask me that?”

“It’s just that some patients fear that when their memory comes back so will the memory of the trauma and thankfully that’s rarely ever the case.”

Harry chews his lip warily before finally letting his shoulders droop in defeat. “It’s not that…I’m not afraid of the accident.”

“So what are you afraid of?”

“I don’t know…it’s just I turned out to be so… _different_ , I don’t even recognize myself from the things people have told me and even just my appearance, it’s not what I expected and I’m scared that I won’t like the person I’ve become. What if I don’t like the life that I had?”

Dr. Spencer clucked his tongue, rubbing his chin in thought. “Look, I’m no psychologist so I could very well may be talking complete shite, but I think that right now you have holes that you have to try to fill, you can always decide you want a different life some time down the road, but if you don’t at least open yourself up to remembering I’m afraid that you’re going to end up living in fear of your own past.”

Harry gulped. He knew the doctor was right, that if he didn’t try and face this problem head-on then he’d end up going the rest of his life afraid of his own shadow, scared that at any moment he could get his memory back or that he would trigger something somehow and that was not a healthy way to live.  


+++

 

Anne Twist wraps her arms around her son the minute he walks through the door and refuses to let him go.

“Gee don’t mind me, I’m only your first born.” Gemma drawls from behind him, rolling her eyes.

“Oh hush you and get over here, you know full well these arms have always been big enough to fit the two of you.” Anne insists, waving her daughter over, she manages to hold out for a full minute before elbowing Harry aside so that she could tuck herself under the opposite arm.

After a beat Robin, tired of waiting his turn, completes the circle by gathering all three of them into his burly embrace.

“So I take it I don’t make it round to visit often then?” He asks once they’re all hugged out.

“No you and Zayn drop by from time to time or we’ll pop over to yours to see little Zach and then there’s always video chatting.”

“Oh, it’s just before you—” He trails off, gesturing to the spot where they’d just been.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen my son after hearing he was in a serous car wreck, Harry, I’m just so glad to be able to hold you at all! And then there’s the fact that, well, I haven’t seen you like this in an age.” She says referring to his new wardrobe.

“Is my room still the same?”

“No I’m sorry love, your bedroom was converted into a second office some time ago, I’m afraid.”

“What! Why? Did you convert Gem’s room too?”

“Yes we did, it’s now a guest room, however the office has a really nice sofa with a pull out you can sleep on.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Harry spends the next week catching up with relatives and old childhood mates, amazed to see just how much life has gone on while he’s still stuck in 2013, as if frozen in time.

“What’s wrong, love?” Anne asks, setting her novel down as he comes home from dinner with yet another old mate, she’s married to a lawyer now with two kids and another on the way.

Harry pouts. “Nothing, it’s just I feel like a man whose been frozen all this time and just been thawed nine years later and everyone’s moved on but me…I’m basically Captain America!”

“You’re basically a _donut_ , c’mere.” She beckons him over to the couch and he complies immediately snuggling into her side. “You’re fine babe, just need to catch up is all.”

“I know; it’s just taking forever.”

“Nine years is a long time, just think you met, fell in love with and married a man and had a baby in that time.” She points out as she strokes his hair. “Speaking of husbands, have you called Zayn at all since you’ve been here?”

Harry rubbed at his nose, mumbling as he did so.

“What was that, love?”

Harry sighs. “No, I’ve sort of been avoiding his calls and texts.”

“That poor dear, he’s probably going out of his mind with worry.”

“Don’t be so dramatic mum, he’s fine. He knows I’m here safe and sound.”

Anne hums her agreement. “Only because I’ve been texting him to tell him so.”

Harry sits up to stare at her. “He’s keeping tabs on me?”

She rolls her eyes, trying to pull back into her lap. “He wouldn’t have to if you’d shoot him an ‘I’m fine’ text every once and a while!”

“Did he tell you we had a fight? He—he yelled at me! And truthfully I’ve been snipping at him ever since I left the hospital, I don’t even mean to do it I’m just frustrated by it all—I don’t think we work.”

“Nonsense, I’ve never seen two boys more in love.”

“That wasn’t me, though.”

+++

_Hey popstar I hear you’re back home for a visit x_

**_Hiii yeah just popped round to see the folks and to catch up with everyone xx_ **

**_How r u?_ **

_Oh I’m just fabulous as always but I was talking w a couple of the lads & we were thinkin about meeting up _

_Maybe reunite the band even x_

**_R u serious???_ **

_What with all the reminiscing we’ve been doing it’s got me right nostalgic xx_

**_When and where x_ **

_Lol well everyone but me & you went back home after we called things quits so I thought I’d head out there this weekend _

**_Sounds gr8 we can head down to the crown and talk over pints just like old times!!!_ **

_You read my mind popstar, I’ll text the boys now w the good news_

**_Nice! see ya this weeknd then Grimmers xx_ **

_Chao babe xx_

+++  


Liam and Niall are over for breakfast as compensation for watching Zach while he heads across town for a job. He’s cutting up some fruit for his son and trying his best not to punch a hole in the wall out of frustration.

“The thing is, he was only supposed to be gone for about a week and it’s already been two…I know he’s feeling lost right now and he probably appreciates having his family around to support him but what about me…what about his life _here_? I thought we were going to work on us but he doesn’t even seem interested in trying.”

Liam nods, chewing and swallowing his bagel before saying, “You can’t rush this, Zayn it’s only been a few weeks since he woke up and had his entire life flipped upside down, I know it’s hard but you just have to let him do this at his own pace.”

Zayn growls, handing Zach half a banana to work through. “I know that, it’s just where does that leave me and Zach in the mean time? Am I just supposed to let him go and hope he eventually finds his way back to us?”

“I think that’s exactly what you’re meant to do, like Christina Aguilera said in that one tune of hers.” Niall says, from his spot on the couch, scrolling through his phone with one hand while he shoved his bagel at his mouth with the other. “Oh no.” He mumbles.

“What?”

“Grimmy just tweeted.”

“Okay?” Zayn asks, wondering why he’s supposed to give a single fuck.

Swallowing roughly Niall turn sad eyes to his friend. “Says he’s headed to Holmes Chapel for the weekend.”

“Homes Chapull!!! Dat’s were nanny lives!” Zach cheers, waving his half smooshed banana in the air. Zayn is forced back in his seat by the weight of this news.

Oh.

+++

 

“I still can’t believe it, nineteen-year-old Harry but with that hair and are you wearing _jeggings?”_ Josh joked, reaching over to give one of Harry’s curls a gentle tug.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what they are.” Harry agreed, pulling at the fabric of his trousers the material much too stretchy to be jeans. “They’re all I had left that was clean, this new me has some odd tastes.”

“Not so much, that’s sort of the style these days, skinny jeans.” Sandy added. “I mean, just look how Grimmy dresses when he’s not slumming around in sweatpants and ironic old school hip hop tees.” Nick didn’t even bother to be offended and simply stuck his tongue out at the Bassist.

“Besides, I like the hair, it makes you look like a sexy lion.” Dan threw in, clawing at the air for emphasis and it was clear that he was already well on his way to pissed.

“Ok bro I think you need to lay off the pipe, yeah?” Josh laughed, discreetly moving the drink from in front of him and replacing it with water.

“Piss off, I’m just sayin’ the hair fits him—he pulls it off.”

Sandy nods, expression thoughtful. “That’s true, but then Hazza’s always been that way, hasn’t he? You remember those onesies he and Tomlinson practically lived in when he was sixteen?”

“Heyyy, those were cool!” Harry tries to protest until Josh pats him on the knee comfortingly.

“They really weren’t but the bloody things caught on anyway.”

“See!”

“It makes sense though, with a face like his you could make a paper bag work.” Nick says, scratching Harry under his chin like he would a kitten when the younger man turns to him eyes shiny and mouth stretched in a sloppy grin.

Dan snorts. “Bullshit, that’s just the sort of rubbish you’d feed him back when you two were dating to ensure you were gonna get some that night.”

“Oi! None of that now, our Hazza’s a married man.” Nick mocks, still tickling him.

Harry, who is practically purring half slumped over Nick’s lap, groans at the reminder “Ugh don’t remind me!” He says, sitting up straight and making a grab for his beer. “I can’t believe I gave all this up for a ball and chain. This feels so right, the five of us…and Jon back together again.” Making sure to include Jon, the man who’d apparently replaced Nick on keyboard for the short time Peachy Keen had tried to make it after the break up.

Jon shoots him a thumbs up in thanks while Josh shrugs, seeming unbothered. “You out grew us I guess, it happens.”

Harry shakes his head, curls bouncing around on his head with the movement. “No, I refuse to accept that, I couldn’t have changed that drastically in like three years…you say the band officially broke up in 2016?”

“The end of, but yeah.”

Harry shakes his head again. “See, that just doesn’t sound like me.”

As the night goes on the group order more drinks and share more laughs and memories and it’s an all-around top night, reconnecting with the lads and they’re all excited to see if they still sound good together—if they’ve still got it.

Harry’s gone to the bathroom, leaving the table to the hoots and hollers of his mates teasing him for breaking the seal but its whatever. When he exits the stall he finds Nick there leant against the sinks with his arms crossed on his chest.

“You all right mate?”

“Not really, I miss you, miss us.”

“Harry…” Nick starts as Harry walks towards him, quickly closing the gap between them.

“Tell me it’s just me and I’ll drop it, tell me it’s really over…that there’s nothing here between us and I’ll do my best to get over you, try to make it work with Zayn.”

Nick looks down at his hands. “I can’t do that.” He says just above a whisper. “When we broke up it wasn’t because we stopped loving each other, it was because we stopped wanting the same things.” That’s apparently all the incentive Harry needs to surge forward, catching Nick’s lips with his own in a sloppy kiss but much to his dismay Nick breaks it, gently shoving Harry back to put some distance between them.

“Nick why—” Harry starts to protest but Nick presses a finger to his mouth to hush him.

“You wouldn’t want this, the new version of you and besides, you’re not a cheater, Harry. Right now you’re still married to Zayn so you can’t— _we_ can’t.”

“Fuck me, you’re right oh god, I just…” He makes as though he’s going to be sick, flattening a hand against his belly while the other one flies up to cover his mouth.

“It’s fine, no one ever has to know we can just forget this ever happened.” Nick assures him reaching out to rub Harry’s back.

“What if I don’t want to forget?” Harry says in a voice almost too low to hear but they both hear it anyway.

+++

The night is dying down as everyone tries to figure out how they’re getting home. Harry’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he digs it out to see who it is, his vision has gone a bit blurry but if he squints he can just make out Zayn’s name and lets out a heavy sigh, moving away from the group he thumbs the call button.

“Hey.”

“Harry! Finally, I’ve been trying to reach you all week, is there something wrong with your phone?” Harry bites his lip feeling guilty for shutting Zayn out and he can tell by the other man’s tone that he knows there’s nothing wrong with his phone. He’s replied to several texts from Louis in the past few days and he’s sure Zayn is aware and is just giving him the chance to explain, but the truth is, there isn’t a good explanation for his actions, he was just being selfish and instead of facing his problems, he chose to ignore them.

“No, my phone’s fine I’ve just been a bit busy reuniting with friends and family but I meant to reply, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Oh, well, how are you?” _When are you coming home?_ Harry can hear those unsaid words loud and clear, his mum and Gem have been asking him the same thing, Louis texted him with that question more than a few times, and each time he’s had the same reply. He doesn’t know.

“Fine, just out at the pub with the lads.” His voice is slurred and he knows Zayn can tell he’s sloshed.

“The lads, that includes Nick, right? Niall saw his tweet.”

“Yes Grimmy’s here, we’re just leaving the pub now headed home—you think I could ring you back tomorrow? When I’m not so.” He waves his hand around even though Zayn couldn’t see him.

“Are you really going to call me back?”

“Yes, of course…I promise!”

“Alright babe, remember to drink some water before you go to bed.”

“I will, thanks.”

Zayn waits a minute, listening to the sound of Harry breathing before finally saying, “Talk to you tomorrow then, goodnight.”

“Bye.” He hangs up and shuffles back over to the group just as their taxis arrive.

“Nice chat?” Nick asks as he leads Harry over to their car.

“Was Zayn, just checkin’ in.” He rolls his eyes, and then regrets it when his vision goes wonky.

Nick hums, “I figured we could share a cab back to my folks’. Mum’s been asking after you since she heard about the accident.”

“That’s fine, I’ve really missed Eileen’s famous blueberry scones.”

“Well then, I’ll put in your request, she’ll be delighted—hasn’t been able to cook up a proper brekkie since I moved out.”

“I’m glad then, can’t wait.”

They get in and the cab takes them to Nick’s parent’s house where Nick sets Harry up in his older sister’s old room with a glass of water on the bed stand. Harry feels himself being tucked in and a chaste kiss on his forehead just before drifting off to sleep.

+++

 

“He promised he’d call, why hasn’t he called?” Zayn asks whoever will listen, pacing a path into the carpet.

“You said he’d been out drinking, yeah? He’s probably hung over or hell, still sleeping, you know he’s a light weight.” Ed reasons as his Mario Kart character throws a blue shell to take Niall’s rider out.

“But it’s nearly three in the afternoon!”

“I repeat light-weight; just chill, Zee. Why don’t you play with Zach or something?”

The toddler perks up at the mention of his name. “Yis come pway wit me Papa you cans be Irowman an I’ll be Batman an we cans beat up da Hulk.”

“But why would you wanna do that, the Hulk’s a good guy!” Zayn reminded, sliding off the couch to sit cross-legged on the floor with his son.

“I knows dat swilly—iz only pweetend fighting!”

“Then shouldn’t we be fighting someone like the Joker or…who’s this guy again?” He asked, lifting a beefed up guy wearing what looked like an all metal suit including a metal mask that cover all but his eyes.

“Dat’s swredda from da ninya tootles.”

“Oh right, now I remember…why don’t we beat him up and the Hulk played by uncle Louis can help us!”

Zach lights up at the idea, already holding the Hulk figurine out to his uncle, who moved down to the carpet to join them. “Ok Papa less git ‘im!”

Playing with Zach does help take his mind off his phone but after an hour they break so that Zach can have a bath and Zayn can start on dinner but he’s distracted the entire time, keeps glancing at his phone willing it to ring or alert him to a text from Harry—anything. But it remains silent right up until it’s time for Zach’s bedtime story.

“Anything?” He asks when he emerges from his son’s room, nodding towards his phone where it still lay on the counter untouched since he left it there.

“No Zee, I’m sorry.”

Pushing the sleeve of his jumper up his arms he picked his phone up to check for himself. “You don’t think he’d do anything, do you?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘anything’.”

“I mean with Nick.”

Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Come on, it’s _Harry_ —he’d never cheat on you.”

“Louis, I’m basically a stranger to him and in his mind he’s still head over heels for Grimmy.” Louis’ eyes go wide for less than a second, almost imperceptivity but Zayn still catches him and frowns. “That’s what I thought, I’ve got to go to Holmes Chapel.”

“What?” Louis sputters, watching as Zayn stands from the couch. “Zayn, that’s the exact _opposite_ of what you should do, you need to give him his space.”

“Right give him just enough space for that snake Nick to butt his way between us and steal him back!”

“That’s ridiculous, need I remind you that this is real life not an episode of Pretty Little Liars?”

“Look I’m going with or without your support I mean, it’s easy for you to sit there and tell me to be patient and let him accept things in his own time, but just put yourself in my shoes, Lou…imagine if it were Liam, are you telling me you wouldn’t try everything you could, that you wouldn’t fight tooth and nail to get him to remember?”

“I…fuck, I’ll help you pack.”

“Thank you, how about you go do a bag for Zach and I’ll pack my own or do you not think you can do it without waking him?”

Louis pulls a face. “Zayn please, I’ve got six younger siblings don’t insult me.”

“My bad.” Zayn says, holding his hands up in front of him. “It’s a good thing I don’t have any jobs lined up this weekend. I want to have everything packed and ready by the door so me and Zach can head out early tomorrow morning.”

“Are you going to call him first?” Louis asks offhand, already making his way down the hall towards the bedrooms.

Zayn shrugs one shoulder. “I could, but he probably wouldn’t answer.”

Louis pivots on his heel to shoot Zayn an impressed smirk. “Why Zayn Malik you are one tricky bastard.” He crowed completely ignoring Zayn’s innocent ‘why whatever do you mean?’ look. “You mean to just show up and ambush him, catch him off guard like.”

“I mean nothing of the sort, besides, he can’t be caught if he’s not doing anything wrong, right?”

“Details, details.”

+++

 

Zayn and Zach show up to the Twist home just in time for lunch. Anne is just tickled at the sight of her grandson, immediately stealing him away from Zayn with a quick kiss to Zayn’s cheek as she ushers him inside with one hand and bounces Zach on her hip with the other.

“Nanny’s missed her boy, you’ve gotten sooo big.”

“I’m tree now.” Zach boasts, proudly holding up the right amount of fingers and everything.

“I know I was there for your birthday, remember? Me and grandpa Robin got you a bike and art supplies.”

“Oh yeah!!!”

Gemma freezes halfway down the stairs when she spies him. “Zayn? What’re you doing here?”

“Harry’s not been returning my calls and I was growing worried so here I am.”

Gemma shakes her head, making a noise of disapproval. “That nutter, he swore he’d call you.”

“Yeah he promised me too, speaking of where is that husband ‘o’ mine?”

“He should be back any minute actually he’s out picking up groceries with um…”

Zayn crosses his arms. “Let me guess, Nick Grimshaw.”

Gemma nods but opens her mouth to explain before Zayn can get stroppy, “It’s nothing, Zayn, they’re still friends and our families have always been close and well, he’s visiting for the weekend so he was bound to come round for a meal at least once.”

“I wish I believed that, Gem.” And he means it, his life is stressful enough with his husband not knowing him from Adam he doesn’t need to worry if said husband is hooking up with his ex on top of everything else.

The front door opens and Harry walks through, laughing at whatever Nick’s just said. His laughter is cut off however by the sight of Zayn standing in his parent’s foyer.

“Zayn, what’re you…”

“Harry!” Zayn gasps, gaping at the sight of his husband, namely his hair. “You cut your hair.” Harry self-consciously brings a hand up to his newly trimmed locks, he hadn’t planned on cutting his hair but the market was right by his old barber and he couldn’t stop himself from going in, he felt so much more himself with his curls cut to just past his ears his fringe turned up in a sort of quiff.

“Uh yeah, I did…it was a real spur of the moment thing, um what’re you doing here?”

“You never called me yesterday and I got worried you’d fallen in a ditch or something, you were pretty pissed when we last spoke and I know how you get.”

“Right, I forgot I was supposed to call you it must’ve—”

“Slipped your mind, yeah I know.” Zayn cuts him off, with a bitter laugh. “So Nick, you here visiting family?” He asks, the taller man who stood half frozen in the doorway.

“Among other things, yes.” He said, admiring his newly manicured nails.

Zayn sorts, with a skeptical roll of his eyes. “Other things, right.”

“Look, I was just acting as his ride to fetch a few groceries but I’ve got to dash now, me mum’s got one of her famous stews on and I wouldn’t want to miss it.” Nick turns for the door just as the telltale sound of little feet come racing down the hall.

“Daddy!!! Look wat granpa robin gives ta me!” Zach exclaimed, waving a bright red and white kazoo at him. “He says you used ta have one when you was wittle like me!”

Squatting down to the toddler’s level Harry nods. “I did, I’m quite good at playing it too.”

“Show me, show me, show me!!!” Zach chanted, holding the kazoo out to him.

“I um…” Harry hesitated, looking between the toddler and Nick and back again.

“It’s alright, Haz, I’ll see myself out.”

“Nick…” He starts to protest but Nick just waved him off with a weak smile and leaves.

Zayn watches Harry teach their son how to play the kazoo by playing a little himself and of course he sounds horrible, no one can actually pay the kazoo well but once Zach finally gets the hang of it, meaning there’s actual sound and not just spit and air that comes out the bloody thing the toddle skips off the show his grandfather his new acquired talent.

Harry notices him staring and begins to blush. “What?”

“Nothing, I’ve just had an idea is all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, what is your favorite book?” Harry gives him a weird look but answers anyway.

“It’s probably not what you’re thinking.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Alright, Women by Charles Bukowski.”

Zayn raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, why?” Harry insists, defensively putting his hands on his hips.

“Well, if you thought it was so great you probably loaned it to somebody, right?”

Harry taps his chin in thought. “Yeah my cousin Matt, I think.

“And you probably said to yourself ‘god I wish I was the person that hadn’t read it, so that I could experience it all over again’.”

“I guess so…”

“That’s how I think we should look at this.” Zayn says, holding his hands out to the side as if to physically present the idea to him.

“Come again?”

“You can’t remember how we met.”

Harry nods. “Mmhm.”

“And you can’t remember how we fell in love, and in a way, that sucks, it really _really_ sucks but it was the greatest time of my life, meeting you was and I just thought how cool would it be to experience it all over again.”

“Like reading your favorite book for the first time.” Harry says, making the connection, “Clever.”

“Exactly! Which is why I want to ask you out on a date.”

Harry blinks slowly. “A date?”

“Yes, as though we’re just two people meeting for the first time.”

“That would even the playing field a bit…all right.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure, why not, let’s do it…a date.”

+++

“So what I was thinking of doing tonight requires us driving back to London, are you ok with that?” Zayn asks as he leads Harry to his car and opening his door for him.

Harry shrugs, dimpling innocently at him. “This is all you, you’re in charge I’m fine with whatever you have planned I’ve just got to be back by 10 am for breakfast with the lads.” He tells Zayn, sliding into the passenger seat.

Zayn freezes, looking completely scandalized. “Whoa there.”

“What?”

“It’s only our first date and you’re already inviting yourself to stay the night?”

It’s Harry’s turn to look affronted “No! I just meant.” He starts to explain until he hears Zayn’s snickers.

“I’m just taking the piss not that—I mean, if you want to stay the night that’s totally cool or not, that’s cool too, erm…maybe we should just see how the night goes, yeah?”

Harry nods, looking amused. “I think that’d be best.”

“Right.” Closing the door, Zayn walks around to the driver’s side and hops in.

They end up at this all night diner with a charming homey feel, the wait staff seems to recognize them the way they smile and lead them to ‘their’ booth and one waitress even asks how Zach’s doing.

“Wow, that’s weird that she’d know about Zach.” Zayn comments, feigning confusion, and doing a terrible job of it.

“So I take it we’ve been here before?” Harrys asks, grinning at Zayn over his menu.

“You caught me, I just figured what better way for you to get to know me then to take you back to how it all began.”

“In this diner?”

“Uh huh, it was our first date, you’d actually tricked me into meeting you by pretending to be a potential client.”

“Of your graphic design work?”

“No my photography.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did, instead of just saying something like ‘hey remember me from the wedding, I’m the guy you flirted with at the bar’ like a normal person, you pretended to be an actor in need of headshots.”

“Oh god, I’m such a nerd.”

“I thought it was sweet.” Zayn admits, lifting his menu a little to cover his blush. “We didn’t want to waste a perfectly good date so we ducked in here for their famous Belgian waffles.”

“Is that what you’d recommend then? The waffles, even at 8:15 P.M?” Harry asked, setting his menu down on the table.

“Oi it’s never too late for waffles.” Zayn argued and for some reason Harry believed him, Zayn could’ve told him the world was flat, global warming is a myth or that Paris Hilton had actual talent and he’d probably have believed him if he said with that same kind of conviction, if his eyes still sparkled in that same magical way.

+++

“God that was delicious.” Harry moaned, licking the last bit of whipped cream and strawberry topping from his spoon.

“I’m glad you liked them, now we can go have dessert.”

“Dessert? I don’t know if I’ve got room to be honest.” He joked rubbing at his prominent food baby.

“You’ll make room, trust me.”

They walk a few shops until they come to a familiar sight, even Harry recognizes the awning.

“Energy Jooz?”

Zayn grins. “It’s like our place, we come here at least once a week to try a new flavor out, we’re determined to try them all at least once.”

“How do you know which ones you’ve already had?”

“With this.” Zayn said, pulling out a folded piece of loose leaf from his pocket and unfolding it to reveal a list of all the original Energy Jooz flavors. There were over thirty with less than half already crossed off.

“Wow, you’re thorough in your exploits, I’m impressed.”         

“Yeah well, you should be, I am very impressive.”

Harry giggles. “You’re also sort of a dork but I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Hey!” Zayn feign offense, pouting down at his trainers, but Harry just blinks unaffected.

“I hope banana and kale is crossed off on that list because I’ve already had that.”

“That’s not even on the list babe, that’s your own special concoction, Mr. Bandi just likes to humor you.”

“Oh.” Holding the list to his chest Zayn asks Harry to pick a number.

“Erm seven?” Skimming the list Zayn cringes.

“Lord preserve us.”

“What did I pick?” He asks, trying to catch a peek at the list.

“Wasabi Pineapple.”

Harry’s nose wrinkles unpleasantly. “Why is that even on the menu?”

“Someone in the world must like it.”

+++

They end the night by riding the London eye, Harry swears he’s never been and Zayn admits he’s only done it the one time because he’s got a thing about heights. When Harry tries to talk him out of it, says it’s fine that they can do something else instead Zayn shakes his head, squaring his shoulders as he steps onto the moving capsule Harry hot on his heels.

There’s about sixteen other people in the capsule with them despite the late hour, a family of five, an elderly couple, a group of six friends that look about Uni age, a young couple that can’t be older than seventeen and a man wearing a Man United ball cap with a camcorder glued to his face.

Zayn leads them over to an open spot by a window and sets his jaw, putting up a good front though Harry can tell he’s still a bit jittery. It’s a thirty-minute ride that’s spent mostly looking out at the beautiful cityscape, London’s night life in full swing and Harry can’t tear his eyes away, green eyes wider then a kid in a candy store.

“God, I’ve lived here in the city for nearly three years now and I never thought to ride this thing…never knew the city could be so beautiful.” He says in wonder.

“Well I reckon it’s hard to appreciate the city when the only view you’ve really had is avoiding getting some kid who’s over done it in the pub’s vom on ya while walking home from a gig.”

“I told you about that?” Harry asks, surprised.

“Of course, I’ve heard all your stories.”

“Right, I keep forgetting that, I know you were just being cheeky when you said tonight we’d be two people going out for the first time but for me it really is the first time so it’s weird to me that you know all this stuff that I don’t remember telling you.”

“I get that, sorry I’m not better at pretending.”

“No, it’s not that, you’re fine, really, I— “Harry’s breath catches and Zayn looks up from where he’d been focused on his hands alarmed.

“What’s wrong?” He asks but Harry can’t answer struck breathless not by the London view but by Zayn and the way the lights of the city seemed to dance in his eyes, casting shadows on his profile making his look unreal like art—ethereal.

They’re nearly at the top when Zayn lets out a tiny laugh and Harry glances over to find him smiling to himself.

“What?” He can’t help but ask.

“This is where we had our first kiss.”

“Really?” Harry asks, looking around as Zayn nods before settling on squinting. “How do I know you’re not just saying that as an excuse to kiss me?” Zayn laughs.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to kiss you.”

“And why not?” He snaps in offense.

“Wait, are you serious? You want me to…” Harry’s hard look is replaced by a playful grin so that Zayn can see he was only playing around.

“Well not anymore, the mood’s ruined by your…” Harry is cut off by Zayn launching forward to kiss him and Harry melts into it without hesitation, bringing his hands up to tangle in Zayn’s hair.

+++

Gemma is sat up with Zach when Harry gets home and without thinking Harry rushes into the room concerned.

“Gem, what is he still doing up, is everything ok?”

“He’s fine, just couldn’t go to bed until his daddy tucked him in.” She explained wearily.

“And that’s me isn’t it?” Gemma‘s only response is a pointed look. “Right ok, let’s go then uh...champ? Off to bed with you.” He holds his arms out for Gemma to hand the kid over.

“Daddy how come you dun call me lil Z no more?” Zach asks once Harry’s got him, little arms looped around his neck.

“Oh right, I thought you’d gotten too big to be lil Z.”

“Dat’s swilly daddy I’ll o ways be yer lil Z you says so!”

“That’s right I did say that, didn’t I? Such a silly daddy to forget such an important thing.”

When he’s all done he rejoins his sister in the living room.

“I put him in your bed, I hope that’s ok?”

Gemma nods, looking exhausted. “That’s where I had him before but he pitched a proper fit, crying that he couldn’t go to sleep without you here.”

“Wonder what he did all week then.” Harry pondered allowed.

Gemma rolls her eyes. “Well seeing as he still had Zayn, I’m sure he was fine, so long as at least one of his fathers were around.”

“Speaking of Zayn, he said he’ll be back tomorrow afternoon for Zach.”

“Figured, will you be going back with them?”

Harry bites his thumb. “I don’t know, Gem…”

“Well you went out with him tonight how was it, has anything changed? Do you think you could learn to like him?”

“Liking him was never going to be an issue, he came well endorsed by just about everyone whose opinion matters to me, and I’m not going to sit here and try to deny I’m attracted to him and tonight was great— _he’s_ great but a part of me, this huge part of me feels guilty for liking him because I’m in love with Nick, I’m supposed to be with him, so how can I feel this way about another man?”

He doesn’t realize he’s started to cry, big fat tears of frustration until Gemma is wrapping her arms around him, rubbing soothing circles into his back when silent tears turn to harsh hiccupping sobs.

“I just don’t know which is the right thing for me anymore, which Harry do I choose?”

“There is no choice babe, they’re both you…they’re both versions of you.”

+++

 

Zayn’s got Louis and Liam on speakerphone as he’s driving back to fetch Zach and try to convince Harry to come home as well.

“I swear guys, it was just like it used to be, scratch that, it was better. Everything I fell in love with about him is still there.”

“I don’t know Zee; to you it might’ve seemed like confirmation of your love but to him it probably seemed more like a really good first date.” Zayn frowned, listening to Liam through a broken connection as he drove further and further from the closest cell phone tower.

“I’m with Payno.”

“Is that Niall? Niall’s there?”

Louis made an affirmative sound, his words coming out muffled. “You’re on speaker.”

“Hi Zen!!! As I was saying, I agree with Liam, this was probably just a date to Harry so you gotta wait the standard three days before you call ’im.”

“I have to wait three days to call my own husband? Have you gone mad?”

“Niall may be onto something there Zayn, as much as it pains me to agree with him, I reckon due to the uniqueness of the situation, you might have to wait even longer than that, you don’t want to scare the fish away before you can hook him, yeah?” Louis pipes in, adding his two cents.

“I can’t wait longer.” Zayn groans, hitting the steering wheel out of frustration. “Or at all because I’m on my way to his mum’s house now to fetch our son. Besides I’m telling you it’s obvious, even with all the crazy shit we’ve been through these last couple of weeks that we still belong together.”

“Obvious to him or to you?” Liam clarifies and Zayn almost hangs up on him.

“To both of us.” He growls.

+++

The ‘lunch with lads’ Harry mentioned the night before actually turned out to really be brunch at the Grimshaw house feasting on Eileen’s Sunday roast while Nick talks more about the band and how they can really make a go of it this time around with all the celebrity friends and connections he’s made through being on the radio. That they have a real shot of making it big this time around and Nick even agrees to let Jon stand in as keyboardist while he takes up a more managerial role.

It all sounds wonderful to Harry. The band is his dream, being a famous singer is all he’s ever wanted since he can remember so if there was a real chance that they could make it, he had to take it.

He didn’t want to look back in another nine years and regret letting this opportunity slip by.

+++  


Zayn is at his house waiting for him when he returns home from brunch. He’s got Zach all packed up and ready to go, they were just watching the Mickey Mouse clubhouse while they waited for Harry.

“Hey.” He greets him, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

“Have a nice breakfast?”

“It was more of a brunch, but yeah, it was pleasant, Zach all packed up?”

“Yep, we were just waiting for you.”

“For me?”

“To say goodbye.” Harry physically relaxes. “Or you could come with us.”

Harry’s fist clench inside his pockets. “I think I’m going to stay a bit longer, actually.”

“Zach, why don’t you go give Nanny, Grandpa Robin and Aunty Gem hugs goodbye?”

“Ok Papa!” Zayn waits until his son is out of sight to narrow his eyes and ask “how much longer?”

“Look Zayn, I don’t know what you want me to say here. Being back home around my family and friends, people I _remember_ loving has been the first time I’ve felt at peace since waking up in the hospital and Nick, he’s put me in touch with the lads of Peachy Keen and we’re thinking about having another go of it…Josh and Dan have already been working on some new material and the bottom line is, I’m not ready to be tied down by a husband and a bloody child, for Christ sake, I’m only nineteen.”

“But you’re not! Your twenty-eight, Harry, you’re an adult whose made his own damn adult decisions, you’ve made commitments that you don’t just get to skip out on just because—because.”

“Because I’ve got amnesia? You don’t think I’m warranted a little slack, a get out of jail free card due to the fact that I don’t remember any of it? The man who married you in a smoothie shop is gone Zayn and Nick said—”

“Oh Nick said did he? This is all his doing, I should’ve known…I’ve never liked the fact that the two of you stayed such good mates all these years but I trusted you, _you_ not him. I know he’s never truly gotten over you, he must be loving this entire situation you running back into his arms giving him a second chance while its tearing me and our family apart.”

“Zayn, that’s not fair, it’s not even like that…”

“Isn’t it, though? I see the way you look at him, Haz, I know what you look like when you’re in love with someone because it’s the same way you used to look at me. Maybe it’s me, maybe everyone’s right and I’m just a fool for clinging so tightly to the past, I’ve got to face the fact that your memories are never coming back.”

“I kissed him.” Harry blurts out and immediately wishes he could suck the words back in the minute they leave his mouth.

Zayn freezes. “What?”

“I kissed Nick, that night I answered the phone pissed all to hell…it was a mistake and we didn’t go any further he—he pushed me away said we couldn’t and I knew he was right…”

Zayn grabs his hair beginning to pace. “You _kissed_ him? Fuck! I’ve been trying all this time, making a complete arse of myself to save what we had, and for what? I’m still nothing but a stranger to you, you’d still rather be with him.”

“God Zayn I never meant to hurt you but I’m just…lost, I’m lost and I may never be found the me you knew, the me you married.”

“So that’s it? We’re really done?”

Harry shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry but I’m just so tired of disappointing you.”

“God, I—finally know why they call it heartbreak.” He says, his voice tight and a bit wobbly when he says: “How do you look at the man you love and tell yourself it’s time to walk away?”

With his shoulders slumped Zayn does just that turns to go collect his son and leave but Harry calls out to him, halting him.

“Zayn!” He doesn’t turn, but Harry knows he’s listening. His own voice has started to tremble. “I hope one day I can love the way that you love me.”

For moment Zayn just stands there breathing unevenly but then he turns just slightly, just enough for their eyes to meet and his are filled with pools of tears just waiting to brim over and fall.

“You figured it out once, you’ll do it again.”

+++

The next few weeks are a whirlwind, starting with Zayn and the lads packing all Harry’s stuff up and loading it into Liam’s SUV to drop off at Gemma’s flat where Harry’s taken to staying.

Peachy Keen land a record deal with their old friend Uncle Simon, their first single garners a decent reaction from the public and they’re already planning their first tour before they’ve even finished recording their album, a small sort of reunion tour hitting up the local pubs and bars they used to perform in for the fans who were there from the start.

Harry is on cloud nine, back onstage he finally feels like he’s home.

+++

The band are in the middle of a writing session when Harry pulls out this almost finished song he’s been working on. Sandy reads it over and declares it a masterpiece but when asked what inspired it all Harry can do is shrug and mutter ‘I don’t know’.

It ends up making it onto the album.

+++

For once the weather is nice in London so Zayn decides to take Zach to the park and texts Liam and Louis to meet them there. He and Louis grab a bench while Liam chases after Zach, purposely running slow to give the toddler the illusion that he’s actually outrunning him.

“How’re you holding up?” Louis asks, toying with the fraying end of his sleeve.

“Every day I have to literally force myself to put on pants, to go on living for Zach, for me. Harry always said we were whole before we met each other, that being together was just an added bonus so I should be able to function better than I have been without him.”

“Give it time.”

Zayn nods, he’s heard that before from just about everyone he knows. “Yeah I know, so the divorce papers came in the post this morning.”

“Fuck man, are you…” He realizes he’s about to ask the same question again and stops himself and offers Zayn a sympathetic look instead.

Zayn shakes his head sadly. “Seeing his signature on those papers was the second hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“What was the first?”

“Walking away from him.”

Louis swallows.

“Are you going to sign them?”

Zayn shrugs, wringing his hands in his lap as he spoke. “I have no choice; I can’t force him to stay married to me.”

Louis nods in understanding, though he doesn’t look any happier about it then Zayn himself feels.

“I was just thinking the other day about the first time he said he loved me…we were sat at his old desktop computer; you remember it, don’t you? It worked when it felt like and never saved a bloody thing. Trying to decide where we wanted to go for holiday…as if we’d ever be able to go on holiday but as we were googling destinations an ad popped up on the screen advertising a way we could _win a free trip to the Florida Keys_ in America and I’d never been to Florida. Hell, I’d never even been on a plane before, but I heard really good things about Miami from Pitbull songs and the Will Smith music video.”

He pauses his story to chuckle, remembering that day as though it were yesterday.

“So I go to mention the idea to Harry but what comes out my mouth is Malambi…I’ll never forget how mortified I was but he just titled his head in that way he does where he looks equal parts fond and equal parts like he thinks the person he’s looking at has a few screws missing, and to my surprise, he smiled at me and said it, three little words with such huge implications. Just let them slip out on a sigh as though he were telling me the weather or asking if I remembered to get his favorite biscuits at the grocer ‘I love you’.”

“Zee…” Zayn wipes at a few stubborn tears on his cheeks.

“That was just a month after we met. That’s all it took for him to fall in love with me.”

+++

Zayn reluctantly signs the papers the minute he gets home but can’t bring himself to actually mail them, so he asks Liam to do it for him. Liam looks like a kicked puppy when he asks, because out of their mates, he was the one, who like Zayn, naively believed that true love conquered all.

+++

Peachy Keen go on tour and at first Harry loves it, enjoys going out with the lads, closing down the pubs every night’s a party. But sooner than he expected, he starts going out less and less growing tired of the party scene, life on the road, living out of a suitcase with wheels beneath his feet.

He goes for a walk through a local park one day between shows and ends up stopping and watching a man around his age pushing a little boy on a swing and can’t help but think of Zach. Actually misses the little guy.

Then one night after a gig Nick tries to kiss him and it’s Harry who pulls away this time.

“Nick, we ended things for a reason you said.”

“Well yeah, but that was because you were wedding obsessed, but now you’re back to your old self, my Hazza living for the stage and a good bar crawl.”

“That’s just it, Nick, I’m not your old Hazza. I’m just me and I may not know what I’m doing most of the time, but I know things didn’t work out between us for a reason, and I owe it to myself to honor that. Nick, you were the love of my life, my first real grown up boyfriend—you’re all I know but I can’t just cling to that and pick up where we left off just because it’s safe and familiar. I have to find myself, the me without you.”

“Wow love, are you sure you didn’t get your memories back because that sounded a lot like what you said the first time you ended things.”

Harry calls a band meeting to let them know that he’s done after the tour is through, that the life on the road just isn’t for him after all, he misses his mates, stability of living in one place, and most of all his son.

Tour ends and Harry finds a flat in the city, a tiny thing no bigger than a shoe box, but it’s _his_.

He’s constantly in contact with Louis and Liam and arranges it so that every other weekend they’ll bring Zach over to visit, because even though he doesn’t remember being the little boy’s daddy, Harry _does_ love him and knows it wouldn’t be fair to just disappear from his life.

Doesn’t want to.

+++

It’s no easy feat but eventually Zayn stops asking his friends about Harry, wanting to respect his ex’s wishes but he still learns things through his son when he returns from ‘daddy time’ chattering about taco nights and trips to the park and how daddy’s favorite character in Tangled is still Ryder because he likes his smolder face.

It’s not much but it’s enough to comfort him, just knowing Harry is doing alright.

It’s been six months since their divorce was finalized and he still hasn’t been able to move on, get back out there, so to speak, much to his mate’s dismay, who hate seeing him so miserable—even Niall, the self-proclaimed perpetual bachelor, has finally settled down with this sweet girl he met when he went back home for a visit.

It’s just hard when he knows the man for him is already out there, that there’s no point in looking when no one will ever be Harry. He’ll never find what they had, just as he’d said in their vows coming up on five years ago today, that their love was a once-in-a-lifetime love, what they’d had didn’t just come around every day.

He runs into Doctor Spencer while in the produce section of the grocery store, the blonde spots him pondering over a cantaloupe doing that thing his mum taught him to check for ripeness and demands that Zayn unhand his cantaloupe. Zayn jumps in confusion then sees whom the booming voice belongs to, and registers what he’s just said and can’t help but laugh.

They jokingly argue about who is to take the cantaloupe home and its Zayn in the end but Colin ends up with his number, so in a way they both go home happy.

They go out on a few dates and it’s nice, Colin is great he’s smart, funny, charming and ridiculously good looking they have fun together and never run out of things to talk about, but he isn’t Harry, and after only four dates, Zayn lets him down easy much to Louis’ delight, who claims he’s never liked the doctor because he’d always suspected he had the hots for Zayn, and was probably ecstatic to hear that Harry’s memories hadn’t returned and that they’d broken up.

+++

On the eve of what would’ve been their fifth year anniversary, Zayn finds himself drawn to Energy Jooz out of habit, only to find it closed for construction and mentally slaps his head for forgetting that Mr. Bandi had mentioned doing some expanding in the next few weeks.

Cursing he turns back around, figuring he’ll have to settle for a homemade smoothie using whatever ingredients he has lying around the house and comes face to face with Harry standing there with the same exact look of disappointment. Zayn blinks a couple of times to make sure he’s seeing right and not just imagining things and can’t fight but smile as he approaches.

“Hey.”

“Hiii.”

“Your hair, it’s growing back.”

Harry’s hand immediately goes up to mess with his fringe. “Uh yeah, I decided I needed a new look and Lou suggested that I just stop trimming it, said that’s what I did before.”

“Lou? As in Teasdale, you two talk?

“Yeah, Liam suggested she bring Lux over to mine on the weekends I have Zach so it’s a little less awkward as I get to know him.”

“That makes sense. So you moved back to the city then? What about the band and touring the world?”

“Been there, done that. Our album actually charted; can you believe it? Though, it was probably thanks to Nick playing our singles every hour on the hour.”

“I heard, I really liked the new stuff…that last one Infinity especially.”

“Yeah? It’s about you.” Zayn ducks his head, smiling shyly down at the ground and looking as if he’d already suspected. “But I’m done with touring, told the boys that after the tour I was hanging up my shoes…been talking to Jeff about getting my old job at the Empire back. He’s giving me a hard time but I think that’s just a formality and the jobs as good as mine.”

“You’re probably right, he’s always had a soft spot for you.” Zayn jokes and they both laugh.

Once the laughter dies, Harry tilts his head, gazing coyly down at Zayn through his lashes. “Thank you.”

“For what? I reckon I just made things worse, pushing you to remember like I did.”

“Are you kidding me? You saw me, accepted me, not for what I was or for what you wanted me to be again…just me.”

“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Harry, that’s all.”

“I know.” He breathes a soft smile touching his lips. “Sooo isn’t there like a kebab shop we used to pop into whenever this place was closed?”

“Um yeah, it’s just around the—wait you remember?”

Realization dawns on Harry and at once he’s shaking his head. “Oh no, no I wish. I’ve just been talking to Liam and Lou about us, even started hanging out with Niall and Ed and they’ve been filling me in on a few things…Zach too.”

“Zach? What kind of insight could he have possibly given you?”

“Very important insight actually, like the fact that his Papa hasn’t brought anyone new round to meet him, and I confirmed it with Louis, who says you’re not seeing anyone right now so…”

“He’s not wrong, though I was seeing a bloke named Colin for a while.”

“Colin, as in Doctor Colin Spencer?” Harry growls without meaning to.

“Yeah I…”

“I fucking knew he was into you, I knew it!”

Zayn neither denies or confirms anything simply asks “What about you then? You seeing anyone?”

“Nope.”

“Okay that’s—that’s a relief, actually.”

“Is it? So do you want to go to the kebab shop then? With me?”

“Sure we could do that or…we could go somewhere we’ve never been before, somewhere new?” Harry’s eyes light up at the idea.

“I’d like that a lot, actually.” Zayn grins and offers the crook of his arm to Harry, who dimples and loops his own arm through Zayn’s and they head off in the opposite direction of the kebab shop.

+++

-2022, three months later-

Things have progressed between them for the better, with Harry coming over to see Zach, no longer needing their mates to act as the go-between-men and sometimes staying for dinner or to watch a movie—usually something Disney or Pixar, the three of them squished together on the couch with Zach sandwiched between them.

So it’s not too surprising when Zayn invites Harry to join them for Christmas at theirs, everyone shows up, all their friends and families and even the Atkins make a quick appearance, a ten-year-old Lux handing Harry a flower crown she’d made just for him.

Things grow tense however, when halfway through the night the two of them get caught beneath some mistletoe that Louis, the meddling twat that he is, put up without even asking and Zayn is quick to laugh it off, insists that they can make an exception just this once and everyone agrees, Louis albeit grudgingly.

But Harry surprises him by raising a challenging eyebrow.

“And why’s that? Do you not want to snog me, Malik?”

Zayn nearly chokes trying to get his next words out. “What? Of course I do, I just thought…”

“Then I reckon you get over here and kiss me then, thems the rules, after all.” He teases and Zayn does not need to be told twice, conquering the few feet between them to capture Harry’s mouth with his.

When they pull apart Harry’s eyes are still closed as if savoring every moment, committing it all to memory.

“Harry, what does this mean?” Zayn can’t help but ask at the risk of ruining the mood but Harry just opens his eyes, smiling.

“I don’t know; all I know is I’m in love with you.”

“You mean you remember now?” Zayn gasps out in joy, the tips of his fingers digging into the Harry’s waist where they rest, but his happiness is short lived, doused by Harry’s head shake.

“No, I mean _me_ —this me. _I’m_ in love with you, is that—is that ok?” Harry clarifies, searching Zayn’s face for disappointment but there is none only a blinding smile and sparkling eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Shit babe, I mean of course! I love you too—I never stopped loving you, not for a second, never gave up hope that you’d find your way back to me. That you’d find your way home.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from hold back the river - james bay


End file.
